


Falling Into the World

by kittyelephant



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Eventual Sexual Content, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pining, abusive relationships/past abusive relationships, friends secretly in love, some mild violence, the rating will probably go up to E at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9979046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyelephant/pseuds/kittyelephant
Summary: Kenma and Kuroo love each other, but an incident years ago has both believing that the love is unrequited.  Each of them deals with this in a completely different way.  This is the story of how they deal with those emotions and how they will either come together or fall apart.  Their friends will help them along the way, but there is only so much they can do.  Kuroo and Kenma will have to be brave and take the initiative before they lose each other.Or...the tropey unrequited love, friends to lovers story.





	1. I'll Slip Away Into This Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter contains a detailed description of a panic attack.
> 
> Just apologizing ahead of time for any grammar errors. Sorry folks.

**_I’ll Slip Away Into This Sound_**  
Title is from the Twenty One Pilot’s song ‘Goner’

Kenma didn't like Kuroo's new boyfriend.

This was a not a new development. In fact, Kenma was fully aware that it was a pattern. He tried. He really did, but failed at liking a single damned one of them, and he felt that he had achieved an uncanny ability to keep his comments neutral rather than scathing when the topic was Kuroo's current fling.

Fling was the correct word, because Kuroo did what Kenma had started to refer to as light dating. Most the men or women lasted no more than two months, and Kenma typically disliked the girlfriend or boyfriend for the same reason-...jealousy.

It had taken Kenma a long time to figure out what it was that made him universally hold contempt for anyone Kuroo brought home in that capacity. After all, it was well within his personality to be less than endeared to anyone he didn't know well.

Unfortunately, the discovery of the source of his contempt, bitter jealousy, brought with it, in sharp and stinging clarity, a fact he had known and ignored for years.

He was in love with his best friend.

Kenma found it to be inconvenient but scarily easy to love the person who was unconditionally kind and physically affectionate towards him...the one person he felt entirely comfortable with. The one person who was always there for him when he was at his worst. The one friend that seemed to understand him more than any other human being Kenma had ever met.

At first, he had thought that was just it. Maybe he was construing the fact that Kuroo was the only person he felt close enough to relax around. Maybe he was confusing comfortability with love. Kenma had almost made himself believe that was the case, until he realized that the flutter in his chest when he saw that mass of messed up hair, the way he ached to kiss Kuroo when their faces were close, and the fact that he had very X-rated thoughts concerning his best friend all pointed to the fact that he was and had been in love with Kuroo.

It wasn't as though Kenma had ever expected his best friend to reciprocate his feelings. The _incident_ had put a lid on that kind of thinking, and Kenma knew he wasn't easy to get along with, let alone love. Even after the therapists, medication, and a lot of improvement, he was trouble and so riddled with neuroses that it was a wonder he managed to keep friends. No. Kuroo deserved and certainly wanted better than that. It made sense... was logical, but did nothing to abate Kozume's own emotions toward the messy haired man.

Kenma refused to let this fact alter the dynamic he shared with Kuroo. Mostly because Kenma liked to think that he was a logical realist and knew better than to pine and obsess over something he could not obtain. Truly, he couldn't do anything about the feelings or his desire for further intimacy, but knowing it wasn't a possibility made it bearable. He could file those feelings away into a folder labeled ‘unattainable.’ They were already much handsy-er than most friends, and Kenma would just have to settle for what he could get. It could be worse, he had surmised.

It didn't mean that Kenma didn't have bad days, where he would look at Kuroo...look at the way he smiled, laughed, and simply was the good damned person he was...and Kenma would feel his chest hurt with just how much he loved the dork. Sometimes Kenma would catch himself staring at a part of Kuroo’s body, studying the form he was so familiar with, and pulling out Kuroo’s every attractive feature, down the cluster of freckles adorning his shoulders and the way his long fingers would curl around a cup. Some days it was Kuroo's full bodied idiot laugh that did it. Others it was his absolutely atrocious singing in the shower. The fact that Kenma could love those things that many might find to be negative factors of Kuroo's personality, always drove the point home that Kenma was deeply in love. Those were the days he had to be extra careful. Otherwise, he would wind up crying in the bathtub.

Luckily, Kenma was very good at hiding his emotions, and Kuroo never seemed to suspect that Kenma was pining over unrequited love.

Why did love have to hurt so damned much? He really hated the bathtub crying days.

Kenma was close to having one of those bad days, leaning into the territory of having one of the worst days, and it was because Kuroo wanted Kenma to join him, the current boyfriend, and some of their work buddies at a bar. Kenma held a special distaste for Kuroo's current boyfriend, and he supposed it was because this particular boyfriend had the qualities Kenma didn't have, in spades.

The new guy was friendly.  
The new guy seemed to have no social issues...at all.  
The new guy was handsome.  
The new guy wasn't needy.  
The new guy stood up straight.  
The new guy didn’t bicker with Kuroo.  
The new guy... the list didn't seem to end.

Kenma despised his own jealousy. It wasn't something he was used to experiencing, seeing as how he had hidden the fact that he was in love from himself until recently, and because of that, it made him very anxious. He needed to get a grip.

“I'm not going out with you guys,” Kenma deadpanned as he tried and failed to complete the second to last mission of his newest game. His mind supplied him with what he really wanted to say. _I can't stand to see you with him._

“C'mon. It's just gonna be me Arata and some of the guys from work. It'll be good for you to get out and meet new people,” Kuroo countered. “Suga and Daichi said they might come too. I think Bokuto might bring Akaashi too.”

Kenma could feel Kuroo's eyes on him...reading him. .

With a huff he continued playing the game, trying to lose himself in it. “I have plenty I can do here. I don't want to go.” _Your friends will judge me. I know it._ Kuroo usually managed to convince him, but Kenma knew he was bathtub crying bound if he did.

“You promised,” Kuroo said softly. “Remember?” Kuroo was looking at him like Kenma's presence would mean the world.

“Ugh...Kuroo..” Kenma groaned. He had promised, but it had been before Kuroo was dating Arata. There was no way his attendance would make any difference for Kuroo. If anything, he was in the way at gatherings of that nature.

“I really want you there, Kitten, but it’s your choice.” Kuroo had placed his palm on Kenma's shoulder, large and warm and comforting.

Truly, the nickname was what made Kenma give in. Part of him hated the sweet name Kuroo had bestowed upon him years ago. The other part, the one that was hopelessly head over heels infatuated with the nerd, wanted to blush. It was sweet, sappy, and obnoxious... and really very Kuroo-esque. Sometimes, when Kuroo called him that his chest would tighten with the feeling of being adored. Kenma knew it was just a stupid nickname, but because it was something just between them, it made him feel special.

He needed to learn to get over it.

 _Damnit!_ “Fine. Sure.” Kenma agreed, steeling himself.  
  
Tonight was going to be horrible.  
  
Love was horrible.

Kenma grumbled his woes to the bathtub he was sure to be crying in later as he ran a brush through his hair.

==

The small pub they had met at was rustic and cozy. If it had been less crowded and had better Wi-Fi connectivity, Kenma would have actually been rather fond of the place. It was a pleasant temperature inside, and Kenma found that he liked the feel of bar’s polished wood under his fingertips. It was well ventilated so that smoke didn’t quite hang in the air.

As it was, he was miserable. There were simply too many people in the small space. His handheld had petered out early on and his phone was almost dead, leaving him without his usual coping mechanisms.

Kenma stared down at his drink and made the decision to leave the moment it was finished. He had situated himself at the bar in a place where he could observe Kuroo and the others, feeling better outside of the throng than in it. A few people had introduced themselves, but quickly picked up that he wasn’t much of a conversationalist and moved on.

Kuroo and Arata had not turned out to be the major source of Kenma's unease. To the contrary, Kuroo had been less demonstrative with his affection than was his norm with whomever he happened to be dating. Multiple times, Kuroo had been observant enough to see that Kenma was anxious and stepped over, sometimes with Arata in tow, to check on him quietly, asking if they needed to leave. Kenma always said no, refusing to ruin Kuroo's night out, because he knew that Kuroo would insist on going home with him. Kuroo was just like that... thoughtful.

So, Kenma did his best to muddle through and, at one point, was joined by Keiji who made him feel a little more relaxed. He had grown to enjoy Keiji's company over the years. Since Keiji was Koutarou's boyfriend, and Koutarou was good friends with Kuroo, Kenma had spent quite a bit of time with the man. This evening the dark haired quiet natured man actually managed to pull a few giggles out of Kenma via telling ‘Bokuto stories’. They sipped their drinks and Kenma added a few quips about Kuroo, which had Keiji sputtering.

It wasn't until Keiji left to join Koutarou that Kenma started to become overwhelmed. The bar was becoming more crowded. People had come up on both sides of him, close enough to touch, and close enough to jostle the drink Kenma was holding. The liquid soaked into his shirt, and Kenma made the decision to leave right then and there. He really liked that shirt and would be pissed if it stained. It had been a gift from Kuroo.

After swiping a couple of flimsy napkins trying to soak up some of the moisture, Kenma felt a body lean in far too close for comfort, and then a drunk girl fell into him. She said something about his eyes and tried to bring her hands to his hair. When he flinched back, he ran into someone, who caught him by the shoulders. Only to be mashed in between two people who were trying to wave down the bartender.

He moved, ready to run out the door, only to find himself in front of a wall of warm bodies, most of them taller than him. He realized he couldn't even see Kuroo, Koutarou, or Keiji over them. When he tried to move through, he met resistance, and panic started to settle in. He wanted to curl up, hide, and close his eyes until they all left. The smells of the crowd blended together into something Kenma found overwhelming and sour. It seemed like every assertive approach he tried to apply to the situation did not work. Finally, he started to muscle through, only to be surrounded again. He was using his hand to indicate that he wanted the people in front of him to separate when he felt someone grab his wrist and yank. Suddenly, he was out.

The person who had grabbed him and was still holding his wrist was attractive. His hair was dark, like Kuroo's, but well groomed, unlike Kuroo's. He had a square jaw, and a smile revealed impeccably straight white teeth. He was much taller than Kenma, and his eyes were a very dark blue. The man had been a part of Kuroo's group. Kenma assumed he was a friend from Kuroo’s work.

“Hey there, Kenma. I thought you could use a little help,” the man said with humor in his eyes.

Kenma said nothing, just tried to remove his wrist from the man's grasp. He had to use a little more force than he would have thought necessary. There was nothing humorous about this situation that Kenma could see.

“So, Kuroo's your roommate, right?” the man was still smiling, obviously trying to start a conversation, and seemingly not put off at all by Kenma's lack of responses.

Kenma nodded, but didn't move his focus off of the floor. His breathing was still quicker than normal and as well-meaning as the guy was trying to be, the attention from a stranger wasn't helping.

They had never been introduced, which meant that he had picked up information about Kenma through conversations with others. Kenma did his best not to think about what those discussions entailed. No matter how many times he assured himself that people weren't speaking ill of him, Kenma always assumed they were talking about every one of the many faults he had. Logically, he knew better. He also knew that Kuroo would stamp out that type of talk quickly. The thought of it made Kenma smile and instantly feel a little better, but not enough to stay in the bar.

With a short nod, he started to make his way toward the door. It was rude to leave without telling anyone, but he resolved to send a text once he was outside.

“Hey, wait! Where're you going?” the man asked, keeping pace with Kenma easily.

“I'm going home. Thank you for your help.” Kenma walked faster, trying to make it clear that their meeting was over.

“Well then, I will walk with you to the train station. I'm about ready to head out myself,” the man stated and tried to lay a hand on Kenma's shoulder. The gesture clearly wasn’t meant to be anything other than friendly, but it was unwanted.

The contact was easily dodged, and Kenma did his best to not look as harassed as he felt. He just wanted to go home, cry in his bathtub, play his game, and go to sleep.

“Whoa, sorry.” At least the guy apologized. “I'm Takeo, by the way. Sorry about being so familiar, I just feel like I know you with the way the guys talk about you.”

Kenma could barely hear what Takeo had said. The noise of the bar was starting to slur into the familiar static that usually precipitated a panic attack. His mind was racing, cycling through his insecurities. He needed to get outside as quickly as possible. He used his hair to block out the visual stimuli that was also blurring into something unrecognizable. His concentration always fell into a clouded haze when a situation was this overwhelming, almost as though his senses were shutting down from the overload. This had not happened in two years. Why now?

When he tripped over a person's foot the world came back to him in a rush. Whether it was Takeo's grip on his arm and hand against his back, or if it was the sharp pain in his toe, he did not know. All he knew was a series of things happened too quickly for his mind to sort through in the moment.

Kuroo seemed to appear from nowhere. Kenma could see Koutarou flanking him in his peripheral, and Keiji's very clean shoes came into view. Hands, which were readily identified as Kuroo’s by the size, warmth, and amount of pressure they pressed upon his skin, pushed Takeo's away and helped Kenma stand up straight. He saw Koutarou muscle his way in between him and Takeo. Keiji had moved behind them, presence very much _there_ without the need to announce it. All at once, Kenma was surrounded by familiarity.

“We’re getting out of here,” Kuroo mumbled as he led Kenma to the door. There was no sign of Arata.

After they were outside and had some distance from the bar, Kenma stopped, bent over, and put his hands on his knees. He didn't understand why the episode in the bar had been so bad, but he needed a moment. Kuroo's hand was on his back, rubbing small soothing circles.

“Breath with me,” Kuroo said, familiar with the little tricks that calmed anxiety.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Takeo said.

Koutarou immediately made a 'shhh' noise.

Kenma had not realized that they had been followed out, and chose not to answer. Instead, he focused on Kuroo's breath sounds, warm palm, and his own pulse. Slowly, he calmed and stood up straight. Things around him came into their normal focus. A tug to Kuroo’s shirt was used to indicate that he was ready to walk again.

“I want to go home,” he stated simply and without emotion before walking toward the train station.

As Koutarou tripped over his own feet to Kenma's left, Kuroo kept close to his right side with his fingers still lightly touching the small of Kenma's back. Keiji scolded Koutarou for drinking too much, and Koutarou whined that he hadn’t.

Very softly, Kuroo's voice carried to his ears. “You okay, Kitten? You had me a bit worried there.”

He didn't have to look up to know what expression his friends face held. Worry, care, sweetness. It was hard not to love him. “I'm okay, now.”

“Well, I just want you to know that samarium 148 is radioactive with a half life of seven quadrillion years,” Kuroo said, and Kenma could practically feel his lopsided grin. Kenma was sure that if he looked at his friend, he would have a wide crooked smile and and that weird face he made sometimes that made one of his eyes look lopsided or bigger than the other.

Kenma couldn’t really remember exactly when Kuroo had picked up the habit of randomly blurting out science facts, but it was a habit that Kenma had come to enjoy. Kenma never could seem to figure out the rhyme or reason for it. At one point, he had thought that maybe Kuroo was doing it because of nerves, but that wasn’t the case at all. This time around, it made Kenma feel even more anchored.

A few seconds of silence passed amongst the group, and as they made their way down the stairs to their platform, Takeo ran up in front of him and turned around as he walked backwards down the stairs. His words were excited and curious. “Is Kitten your nickname? That's super cute and rather fitting. Can I call you th....?”

“No,” both he and Kuroo said sternly and in unison.

Kenma followed up with, “I don't want you to call me that.” He wanted to make it very clear.

Takeo seemed to know he had struck a nerve because his next sentence was entirely apologetic. “Sorry. I didn't mean to...'

Kuroo cut him off. “No worries, dude. Just don't call him that.”

Takeo didn’t say anything else after that, but when Kenma would look up from the ground and check his surroundings, if he happened to look at Takeo, the man smiled at him.

When they boarded the train, it was mostly empty. All of them easily found a seat. Kenma slumped and closed his eyes, listening to Koutarou and Kuroo emphatically explain how everyone needed to see all the _Mad Max_ movies, at least once. Kenma could feel Kuroo gesturing beside him. Kenma liked how he talked with his hands.

Kenma and Kuroo’s stop was closest, and after they exited and were walking to the apartment, Kenma thought about how Kuroo's night had been cut short because he couldn't keep his shit together. It had been awhile since he had had an attack like that, and it made guilt flood him.

“I'm sorry about making you have to cut your night short, Kuroo.” At this point, all he could do was apologize. He hadn't meant for it to be this way. It made him feel like a freak.

“You did no such thing. I was ready to leave anyway.”

A look was shot Kuroo's way, hopefully showing that Kenma knew the answer was bullshit. “You left without your boyfriend, Kuroo.”

“Arata understands. I do not mind at all. This is where I want to be,” he said, smiling crookedly and sweetly. The color of his eyes seemed to glow in the streetlight, and for a moment Kenma was caught up in the angle of Kuroo’s jaw.

A small hum was all Kenma could manage in response. The rest of the way home, Kenma did his best not to moon over Kuroo.

When they made it into the apartment Kuroo immediately grabbed a large blanket, Kenma's other handheld, and a book. Without a word he placed all the items on the couch and motioned for Kenma to join him.

A few minutes later they were lounging against each other, silent but for the click of Kenma's buttons and the sound of Kuroo turning pages.

These were _their_ sounds, and Kenma allowed himself to indulge in the love he felt for them, if only for the night.


	2. Facts of Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma wants to make his relationship work, and Kuroo wants to give Takeo the benefit of a doubt. All is not well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologize once again for not having someone look this over before posting it. Therefore, there may be mistakes.

Chapter 2 Facts of Science

 

Kenma has been dating Takeo for a month, and he was doing his best to _make it work._

 

The first time Takeo propositioned Kenma for a date was the second time he had seen him. They were at a picnic sponsored by Kuroo's work. It made sense for Takeo to be there, nothing odd about that, but it seemed odd that he wasn’t put off by Kenma's refusal to look up from his game.

 

Takeo had learned from his first exposure to Kenma it seemed, because he was much more cautious about how he approached. Takeo was still handsome, and Kenma noted that he had a tan, something he could not have seen in the bar.  He had dimples and he had an even tooth bearing smile. He also seemed broader, taller, and more muscular than Kenma remembered. The other man fished for starters to a conversation that Kenma would not let him have, and it wasn’t until Kuroo came up and made good on his promise to drag Kenma to the volleyball net that Kenma managed more than monosyllabic responses. As he struggled, thrown over Kuroo's shoulder, he saw that Takeo was watching him with rapt attention.

 

They played volleyball, and talked about volleyball. Kenma wasn’t holding up his end of the discussion, but was more invested than he had been. Maybe he was being more social because Kuroo was involved. Their team won, and as was his custom, Kuroo touted that it was Kenma who made it happen. Kenma blushed at the attention, but enjoyed the warmth of Kuroo’s sincere praise. He made it clear to Kuroo that he was an embarrassing dork.

 

Takeo wasn’t as good as Kuroo or Kenma, but he was an okay player. Kenma in his usual blunt manner made it very clear that Takeo had a lot to learn. The other man took it in stride, undaunted, and managed to ask if Kenma would very kindly teach him. Kenma scoffed, said no, and imagined how Takeo would do in a match against Kuroo, Akaashi, Bokuto, Oikawa, Hinata, Iwaizumi, and himself. The poor guy wouldn't know what hit him.

 

Kenma said yes to Takeo’s offer of a date the next time they met.

 

The decision had been precipitated by a very long conversation with Shoyou, and Kuroo’s announcement that in two months’ time, he was taking a two week long vacation with Arata. Kenma’s response had been positive, telling Kuroo that he was sure he would have a great time. As Kuroo enthusiastically listed the various things he wanted to do on his trip, Kenma struggled to keep his breath even and face passive.

 

Kuroo planning a trip that far down the road indicated that he expected to still be with Arata, which meant that this relationship would last longer than any of the previous ones.

 

It meant that Kuroo was serious about someone. Someone not Kenma.

 

Afterward, when Kenma had snuck into his bedroom, he allowed the panic to set in. He had never realized how much he counted on Kuroo not taking any of his relationships seriously. That flippancy permitted Kenma to cling to the hope that he still had a small chance.  

 

Now, he had to get a grip on the very real possibility of Kuroo finding love and all the trappings that came with it. He would move out, spend less time with Kenma, and move on to the next stage of his life. The blond’s mind started to jump to conclusions, all of them negative. What if Kuroo decided that their friendship wasn’t worth it? The idea brought tears to Kenma’s eyes.

 

When he was calm enough to do so, Kenma picked up the phone and called Shoyou.

 

He phrased the scenario without mentioning Kuroo’s name, lying and saying that he had a long-term crush on a coworker and was positive that said crush did not return his feelings. He wanted advice on how to get over it.

 

Strangely, Shoyou seemed to stick on the fact of Kenma’s certainty over the feelings being non mutual. “How do you know for sure, Kenma?”

 

“I just do,” he had replied, thinking of the incident so many years ago that had made his assumption concrete. The way Kuroo had looked running out the door was something he would never forget.

 

“Yeah, but how do you know? Have you asked him?” Shoyou sounded like he just couldn’t believe a person wouldn’t want to return Kenma’s affection. Typical Shoyou. Kenma imagined him pacing the floor of his apartment, phone to his ear, and gesturing with his other hand.

 

“I don’t have to ask him. He has a boyfriend,” he sighed. That should have nipped it in the bud.

 

“Having a boyfriend doesn’t make it a definite fact that he isn’t interested in you. Lots of people date and are interested in more than one person. You should just talk to him.”

 

“You are acting like I can’t read people. I know. Okay?” he grumbled, tempted to just lay it all on the table. “Anyway, what would you do? I have to get over this. I see him almost every day.”

 

He was surprised when his friend went silent for quite some time. It wasn’t often that Shoyou stopped to think about what he was going to say.

 

Finally, Shoyou cleared his throat and said, “Gwah, you are so solution focused. If you are so sure, then maybe try dating someone else. Try to avoid the guy as much as possible, until you feel like it won’t hurt you to be around him.” The ginger didn’t sound like he was happy with what he just said.

 

“I don’t know if I’m interested in anyone else. That’s part of the problem.”

 

“Well, think about it. It sounds like you’ve never _considered_ another person.  You seem awfully attached to this guy. Try looking at other people with the idea that they could possibly be someone you would date.” Surprisingly, Shoyou sounded snippy.

 

“I’ll try,” Kenma mumbled and almost hung up before the man on the other line blurted loudly, as though he had been holding his words in for a long time, and now, they were spilling out in a gush.

 

“Listen, Kenma. I really think you are making a mistake by not talking to...this guy. I would almost bet that he does...”

 

“How would you know? It’s sweet that you think that there isn’t a way someone wouldn’t want to be with me, but trust me on this.” Kenma wondered what his friend would say if he told him it was Kuroo.

 

“Just...you may regret it Kenma, if you don’t talk to him, but do what you want. That kind of regret is hard to live with.” Shoyou was clearly remembering his own past experience.  Thinking of that, he bit back a condescending reply.  

 

That ended the call and strengthened Kenma's resolve. 

 

So, the next time Takeo asked Kenma out, he said yes.

 

And now, a month in, he found himself bargaining with his boyfriend, trying to get him to agree to an outing with Kuroo and other friends he hadn’t seen in a while. The problem was that Takeo insisted that when Kenma agreed to time with him, he thought it meant them alone. This issue had come up before, and usually Kenma relented, but he missed his friends and was tired of fielding ‘are you okay?’ and ‘why don’t I see you anymore?’ questions. His friends were his support system, and he could feel himself falling back into anxiety, depression, and panic.

 

“I’m hurt that you don’t want to spend time with me, Kenma,” Takeo sighed and removed his arms from around Kenma’s shoulders.

 

“That isn’t it. I haven’t seen my friends in a long time. I _live_ with Kuroo and barely see him. You could come with me.” He refused to look anywhere but his lap.

 

“I can tell you haven’t been in many relationships, Kenma, and I just gotta tell you, it’s weird to prioritize your significant other as second like that.” Takeo shook his head. “Are you telling me you don’t go more than two weeks without seeing your friends?” The question was laced with incredulity.

 

Kenma hated that he was having to explain himself, and he hated the pang of guilt he felt. “I just… they are my support system. They help with the anxiety and….”

 

Takeo’s eyes narrowed. “Help? Kenma, I like you, a lot, but have you ever thought that your friends are just acting as a crutch. They baby you, especially Kuroo. That’s why you are still having issues. You need to be able to go out without shoving your face in a game or clinging to another person. I want this.” He gestured between the two of them. “But I don’t know if I can be with someone who can’t solve their own problems. If you wanna grow up and move on in life, you gotta learn to do things by yourself.”

 

Kenma was conflicted, split in two. On one hand, he wanted to walk out the door and tell Takeo to go fuck himself. His friends were important. On the other hand, he worried that Takeo was right. He wanted to move on, to progress past the ache of never being able to have Kuroo. That meant having his own successful relationship.

 

That night they stayed in. Kenma thought of the incident from so long ago, how Kuroo ran out the door, and decided to try to go further intimately with Takeo. He needed this relationship to work.

 

Kuroo had actively tried to keep himself from finding things wrong with Takeo after learning that Kenma was dating the man. He had assumed that the distrust he felt had been because he was protective of Kenma. So, he put a lot of effort into ignoring the warning bells that were constantly ringing when Takeo was around. At first, he had no grounds to feel that way. There was no real reason to dislike his coworker.

 

Later, Kuroo would regret his efforts, because he missed key signs of Takeo being the exact kind of person his gut told him he was.

 

The first clue that Kuroo willfully buried, sure that he was overreacting, was Oikawa’s reaction to Takeo. Strangely, the former grand king of the court had become a friend. College and a relationship with Iwaizumi had tempered Oikawa in the best kind of way.

 

Kuroo also really enjoyed talking shit to Oikawa. It really was a main component of their friendship.

 

Oikawa had proven time and time again to be incredibly perceptive when he chose to be, especially in terms of judging the character of others. Oikawa as an enemy would be a horrible thing, because he missed nothing and his words cut like a knife. It was rare that he showed that nasty part of his personality, but Kuroo, after many years, had learned that it still showed itself when he felt that one of his friends were threatened in any way shape or form. He had seen Oikawa rip someone to shreds with his words on Kuroo’s behalf. Maybe it was a setter thing, Kuroo thought, because Suga, Kenma, and Akaashi were the similarly protective of those close to them.

 

In the same way he had been attuned to his team when he played volleyball, Oikawa was exceptionally sensitive to those he considered to be a part of his ‘group’, and strangely enough, he had a soft spot for Kenma. So, when Oikawa laid into Takeo with absolute sadistic abandon, Kuroo should have known something was wrong.

 

Kuroo, Hinata, Akaashi, Bokuto, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi all arrived at the restaurant at about the same time for dinner. They all had a few drinks while waiting for their food to arrive. The restaurant was one of Kuroo and Oikawa’s favorites, because it was a good place to settle in without a rush to finish eating. It was perfect for spending time with friends. It was an added bonus that they had their own private room.

 

Kuroo was in an even better mood when he saw that Kenma actually came. Kenma had been spending a lot of time at Takeo’s apartment, and Kuroo missed him fiercely, an emotion he conveyed through a very tight hug. It felt like it only lasted a second before Takeo was pulling Kenma back by his elbow making a joke about being jealous. Kuroo could have been reading too much into it, but it looked like Takeo tried to steer Kenma around to sitting on the end, a seat that would practically have Kenma by himself with no one in front or on the other side. In a strange kind of panic, Kuroo stood and using a light grasp on Kenma’s shoulder, steered the blond to sitting beside him.

 

Oikawa zeroed in on the newcomer within seconds. “Who is this attractive man escorting our Ken-chan?” An outsider would have called his voice cheerful, and might have mistook it to be welcoming. Kuroo knew better. Oikawa was unsure of Takeo and would probably spend the rest of dinner subtly testing him. If anyone was as protective of Kenma as Kuroo, it was either Bokuto or Oikawa.

 

“My name is Takeo, and you are?” Takeo asked politely, gesturing to all the people he didn’t know.

 

A round of introductions ensued and as the others started their own conversations, Kuroo turned to Kenma who seemed to be keyed up and tense. It took a second for Kuroo to realize that he didn’t have out a phone or video game. Kuroo took the time to enjoy the fall of Kenma’s hair, the paleness of his throat, and the curve of his pouting mouth. It wasn’t until Kenma tilted his head and raised an eyebrow that Kuroo realized that he had been staring for quite awhile.

 

Kuroo felt a familiar sudden urge fall over him, and so he did what he always did in these situations.

 

“Bromine and mercury are the only elements that are liquid at room temperature,” he said, smiling. Ever since the _event_ years ago, Kuroo had realized that he had to do something with his urges. It had come out of the simple need to _do something_ anything other than what he really wanted to do or say. He didn’t want to scare Kenma. So, every time he felt that overwhelming need, he said a science fact, out loud and typically to, Kenma.

 

The science facts must have seemed random to Kenma in the beginning, but a few months into Kuroo’s new behavior, Kenma had said that he liked it. Every now and then Kenma was answer with a quip of his own, and Kuroo’s heart typically skipped a few beats with the hope that Kenma was returning his feelings. Kuroo had been doing it ever since. Scientific facts became “I am madly in love with you”.

 

This time, his little quip about bromine and mercury killed two birds with one stone. He was able to pour his love and need to shower Kenma with physical affection into words and Kenma was smirking.

 

Kenma’s face was the picture of fondness when he said, “you are an insufferable dork.”

 

“Am not.” He smiled. “Guess who bought all of the Planet Earth documentary?” Kuroo touted to Kenma, feeling only a bit less inclined to kiss the faux blond silly. “We gotta binge watch it the next time your home Kitten. Bokuto and Akaashi have it, and Akaashi said that Bokuto didn’t even move off the couch for hours. It must be good if Bokuto will sit still through it,” Kuroo stated conspiratorially, aware that Bokuto could hear every word.

 

“I almost don’t believe it,” Kenma said lowly, playing along. “He can’t even sit still through an action flick. We always have to pause it. I’ve been wondering if using a horse tranquilizer would work.” The side of Kenma’s mouth twitched.

 

“It’s a good thing he works with elementary school kids. They have the same attention span as he does and….” Kuroo was interrupted.

 

“Oi! I heard that Kuroo,” Bokuto said leaning over and placing his chin on Kuroo’s shoulder to look at Kenma. “I will have you know that I work with the little ones not because I have a short attention span but because I am the best at it. Not everyone can take on twenty five year olds at once. It’s _**brutal**_.” He said the last sentence with all seriousness while flexing his left bicep.

 

“I bet I could take on thirty,” Kuroo challenged.

 

“Oh no you couldn’t bro. It’s like a tornado of questions and hugs and crying and snot and whining and just so much _energ_ _y!_ ” Bokuto’s hand gestures were verging on destructive.

Akaashi moved Bokuto's drink farther away to avoid it from spilling. 

 

“Hey it sounds like a job Iwaizumi would be good at, considering how he has to wrangle Oika…..” Hinata’s sentence was cut off as Oikawa reached over and grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked. Luckily, they were sitting and Hinata didn’t have far to fall.  

Not that he would have had far to fall anyway, being so short and all, Kuroo mused.

 

They all laughed and Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from throwing out a couple of jokes at the expense of Hinata’s height. Bokuto , of course, spring boarded off of everything Kuroo said and soon they had the ginger turning red and throwing balled up bits of napkins at them.

 

“Oh c’mon Shrimp. I’m sure you’ve heard worse than that.” Oikawa quipped when he was able to stop laughing.

 

Hinata looked around for more ammo having exhausted all the napkins. Akaashi pulled his out of Hinata’s reach with astounding quickness.

 

The banter continued, and every time Kuroo looked Kenma’s way he saw affection and fondness in his large gold eyes. Kenma had missed them. It may not have been obvious to the others around him, but Kenma was practically thrumming with happiness.

 

Kuroo also noticed that Takeo didn’t say much, and his smile seemed strained.

 

Their meal arrived and soon the only sounds were of eight men eating heartily and the occasional smack to someone’s hand for reaching for food on another person’s plate. Akaashi was the only one who managed to avoid it by keeping a fork in one hand while eating with the other. Akaashi made a stabbing motion at the first person who reached for his food, and that was all it took to keep the others at bay. Kuroo had been wondering why he had asked the waitress for the fork.

 

They drank more. The topic went from outer space to flings in a flash. They always had had a tendency to switch subject matter quickly.

 

Oikawa was talking about the one fling he had in college, and Hinata was laughing. Hinata was definitely drunk. It was kind of cute, Kuroo had to admit, and funnily enough Kenma whispered the same into his ear.

 

“One fling? Oikawa you...” He had to stop to laugh. “You. The pretty boy who attracted everybody, only had one boyfriend… or fling or whatever...before Iwaizumi? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”  He couldn't seem to stop chuckling, and the red on his cheeks just made him seem all the more merry.  

 

Oikawa sounded quite put out. “Well. Yeah Shrimpy-chan. It’s not _that_ weird! What about you? You can’t have had that many boyfriends?” Iwaizumi put an arm around Oikawa, and immediately the former setter calmed.

 

“I’ve had plenty, please and thank you. Bah! It’s just funny, because you’re so… so….” Hinata was flapping his hands around his head, obviously annoyed at being unable to find the word.

 

“Pretty, flirty, and popular,” Kenma supplied with a small smirk. Hinata always seemed to make Kenma smile.

 

“Well. Yeah! I mean I think most of us have had more experience than you Oikawa.” Hinata’s words were almost accusatory.

 

Sometimes, Kuroo thought to himself, Hinata talked like if the words didn’t come out, he would explode.

 

Oikawa scowled. “Tch.” It was a fake scowl though, he seemed just as amused.

 

“Hey, not Kenma though,” Takeo said, pulling the blond into a side hug. To Kuroo, it felt like Takeo was talking too loudly. “Close to thirty and he’s still a virgin.”

 

The entire table went silent. Someone who didn’t know them might think it was shock at the revelation.

 

It wasn’t. Kuroo didn’t even need to look to _feel_ that Kenma was mortified. The whole table, sans Takeo, were flabbergasted that Kenma had a boyfriend that didn’t understand that what he had said was intensely private for Kenma. Teasing him for something like that wasn’t okay. Everyone at the table knew it. Why the fuck didn’t Takeo?

 

Oikawa was a different story, of course, a different personality entirely.

 

The thing about Kenma, Kuroo knew, was that Kenma did things at his own pace. Intimacy was something that came slowly, if at all. Everyone understood that that was just Kenma’s way. In many ways, he matured faster than others. In other ways, he took his time until he was sure he was ready. It was actually a lot healthier than the way many people did it, Kuroo thought.

 

“Kitten?” Kuroo murmured calling as little attention as possible to his words, hoping that Kenma would reach for his hand.

 

Kenma didn’t answer. He was stiff, seemed to have stopped breathing, and through the curtain of hair, Kuroo could see red on his cheeks and neck.

 

Kuroo knew it wasn’t just the fact that Takeo had blurted out the state of Kenma’s sexual innocence, which Kuroo was sure wasn't even correct. It was that he had done it as though it was something that made Kenma _lack_ in some way.

 

“Whoa guys. It was a joke. It wasn’t any worse than what you said to Oikawa. I don’t get the big deal.” Takeo said defensively, removing his arms from around Kenma’s shoulder to gesture around the table. “What. You guys can make jokes but I can’t?” The last few words sounded angry.

 

Kenma breathed loudly, stood, and practically ran out of room. Takeo just stared at his back, scowling.

 

“Oh it isn’t that we are the only ones who can make jokes Take-kun.” The tone of Oikawa’s voice was dripping with anticipatory delight. Kuroo knew that Oikawa was about to make Takeo feel about three inches tall.

 

Takeo’s eyes were narrowed. Surely he could sense the atmosphere. He was now Oikawa’s prey.

Hinata also looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

 

As much as Kuroo wanted to watch Oikawa verbally bully Takeo, because a lesson definitely needed to be learned here, whether it was to never be on the bad side of Oikawa or to know his boyfriend better, (both were valuable), Kuroo felt more inclined at the moment to find Kenma. So, he walked out and toward the restrooms.

 

Kenma wasn’t there. He wasn’t outside the front or back door. He wasn’t anywhere around the restaurant. Kuroo went back inside to see if by some miracle he missed Kenma coming back to the table.

 

Kenma was there, but on his way out the door with Takeo at his heels, spouting apologies.

 

“What happened while I was gone?” Kuroo asked. He wondered if he should follow the two out.

 

Akaashi answered. “Oikawa was less than genial.”

 

Kuroo heard Oikawa hum affirmatively.

 

Akaashi continued. “And Takeo, it seems, didn’t know he was saying something wrong. He tried to apologize, but...”

 

“I tore him a new asshole,” Oikawa was sneering.

 

“Iwaizumi didn’t even try to stop him,” Hinata added.

 

“It’s because he knows I’m right. That guy is a dick cricket,” Oikawa said with a mean smile.

 

Iwaizumi looked at Bokuto briefly and then nodded his head, making it known that he agreed.

 

“Maybe he really just didn’t know,” Hinata said, sounding like he didn’t believe it himself.

 

“Maybe.” Kuroo wasn’t sure he believed it either. He would have to talk to Kenma.

 

“There is no maybe. That guy is not okay for Kenma. You guys can buy into the bullshit, but I don’t. He deserved everything I said.” Oikawa was unapologetic, as was par for the course.

 

Iwaizumi nodded then said, “I don’t like him either.”

 

“So you think he knew? But why? There was nothing to gain by embarrassing Kenma? What he said didn’t make sense.” Hinata was asking some fairly good questions for someone who had been three sheets in the wind.

 

“There are lots of reasons for embarrassing a person in that way,” Bokuto’s voice was grave and serious, and his eyes were cast toward the floor.

 

“Don’t know why. It’s possible he just doesn’t get all of Kenma’s eccentricities, or maybe he is just socially awkward. We forget that we have known each other a long time.” Akaashi pondered as he looped his arm through Bokutos and kissed his cheek.

 

Bokuto was silent, which was odd. His posture and facial expression told Kuroo that he was mulling something over. He was lacking his usual excited vigor.

 

Kuroo put ‘talking to Bokuto’ on his to do list for the next weekend. It would give Bo time to think through whatever was on his mind.

 

“True,” Kuroo muttered, hoping that was the case.

 

“He knew,” Oikawa quipped.

 

“I’ll talk to Kenma about it tonight or tomorrow,” Kuroo affirmed.

 

At that, it seemed that everyone was ready to go home.

 

When Oikawa hugged Kuroo goodbye he whispered, “watch out for Kenma. That guy’s bad news.”

 

Kuroo made plans to call both Kenma and Iwaizumi tomorrow. He wanted to make sure Kenma was okay, and he really wanted to know what Oikawa had said to put that look on Takeo’s face.

 

 


	3. A Cardboard Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I probably have errors all over the place. Sorry about that. 
> 
> For some strange reason, this was one of my favorite chapters to write. I just thought I should share that. 
> 
> Oh, and Bokuto is kind of maybe my hero in this fic.

 

** Chapter 3: A Cardboard Castle **

 

Kenma stared at the key in the lock for at least a full five minutes, taking slow breaths and trying to quell his anxiety and fear. It was dumb, really, because this was his own damned apartment, and it was only Kuroo and Koutarou.

 

It had been so long since Kenma last saw Kuroo (or any of his friends for that matter), that his mind created many scenarios as to how he would be greeted when he walked into his apartment. All of them involved disappointment, and most involved anger. His biggest fear was that he would walk in there and discover that he was written off. Out of sight, out of mind.

 

He knew that it was a paranoid and drastic way to think. The last time he had spoken to Kuroo, the other man had simply voiced concern over Takeo’s behavior, which Kenma brushed off. Kuroo had not seemed mad, but that felt like it had been so long ago. It didn’t stop his brain from letting the idea circulate. The loop in his head continued as he turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

 

As he removed and placed his shoes next to Kuroo’s boots, he tried to remember exactly when his group of friends had become such a big and important part of his life. Kuroo was a given, but the others had managed to find a stable and coveted place too. Kenma could remember a time when he wouldn’t have thought twice about not talking to or seeing anyone but Kuroo for weeks, but time had changed that, which was why he was fretting.

 

Kenma had spent a lot of time mulling over why it was he couldn’t seem to balance work, friends, and his boyfriend. He wondered if there was something wrong with him, because Kuroo and the others never seemed to have an issue. They all made time for each other, but as soon as Kenma had started dating Takeo, he seemed to be unable to make it all fit. God, he wished he could just be normal.

 

As he walked by the kitchen, he happened to glance through the entrance, and stopped. Doing a double take, Kenma played with the notion of pinching himself. The sight before him wiped all of his negative thoughts away, because there was room for nothing other than bewilderment. Kenma stood stock still, trying to take in what he was viewing as well as figure out what led to the spectacle that was Kuroo Tetsuro.

 

Kuroo turned, probably having heard Kenma’s footsteps, and the smile that he gave was wide and beaming. The man’s gaze traveled over Kenma. “Welcome home Kitten. I am so glad you’re here.” His posture and face read nothing but perfect acceptance and glee at seeing Kenma. Kuroo was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 

Unfortunately, as happy as he was to see Kuroo, all Kenma could do was stare. It wasn’t until Kuroo went in for a hug that Kenma finally spoke. “Woah.” He backed up a few steps with his hands in front of him. “Why do you look like you murdered a hundred fairies?”

 

“What?” Kuroo looked confused for all of the blink of an eye before he gave himself a once over, as though he forgot, ( and for all Kenma knew maybe he had), that he was covered in gobs of what could only be Elmers glue, pink, blue, and silver glitter, and what looked to be doodles done with various colors of markers.

 

The sight reminded Kenma of when he and Kuroo had decided to draw on each other when they were small children, leaving no visible skin uncovered. It had been unfortunate that they had used his mother’s professional art markers, because it was almost impossible to get off. Both of sets of parents had been livid. Kenma’s parents had managed to painfully scrub the majority off, but Kuroo’s parents had given it a once over with some soap, gave it up as a lost cause, and decided it would be best to let Kuroo go to school like that as punishment. It hadn’t bothered Kuroo in the slightest, and when other children had asked, he had said he was a work of art.

 

Kuroo placed the back of his colorful and glitter ridden hand to his forehead for what Kenma assumed was dramatic affect. “I haven’t murdered any fairies. How dare you accuse me, an upright, law abiding, sweet...”

 

“If you didn’t murder any fairies, then did they offer themselves freely for you to messily eat them. You have glitter in your teeth. How the hell did that even happen?” Seriously though, how?

 

“Eat fairies. I would never.” He managed to actually sound scandalized at the notion. “They would taste horrible.” Kuroo looked disproportionately happy to be having this conversation.

 

“Okay then why did you let an arts and crafts store vomit all over you…. Are those sequins?” Kenma leaned forward and squinted at the cluster of blue and red sequins stuck in a glob of glue on Kuroo’s left knee.

 

Kuroo ignored the question, grabbed Kenma’s wrist, and started pulling him toward their living room. “You gotta see what me and Bo did.”

 

All Kenma could think as he was led down the hallway was about how he would now have glitter all over his wrist… and how it would never come off, but again, his thoughts came to an abrupt halt and were replaced with bewilderment.

 

He now knew why Kuroo looked the way he did, and had to admit that maybe the resulting ‘fairy massacre’ look he was sporting was worth it.. The living room floor was covered plastic, presumably to keep the art off of the carpet. The furniture had been moved to line the walls and had been replaced by a very complex, slightly lopsided, well decorated, cardboard castle. It even had three towers. It was massive…at least in terms of cardboard castles… not that Kenma had seen many of them to compare. The decorations were sporadic and held no real theme, but there was no mistaking which bits had been done by Kuroo and which had been done by Koutarou. From where he stood, hand now warm and secure in Kuroo’s, Kenma could see what looked like a bad rendition of a dragon, covered in glitter (that had to be Kuroo’s because of how badly drawn it was), an owl and phoenix (Koutarou’s because they were very well done) flying over a field of what probably was supposed to be flowers (Kuroo’s work). He was guessing about the flowers, because they were really just a mass of ink, glitter, glue, and sequins, much like every inch of Kuroo’s skin.

 

He was about to ask Kuroo if the thing on the far left tower was supposed to look like a cat-goat-elephant hybrid, when the castle started shaking. He only realized that the sides of the castle were bulging with what could only be the movement of Koutarou’s broad shoulders a second before said shoulders and head emerged through where a very intricate set of doors had been drawn and the cardboard cut to actually open.

 

In the good minute that he watched Koutarou struggle to get back to his feet, Kenma’s mind went into a minor panic, letting his fears seep back in like a poison. Kuroo squeezed his hand, and he resisted the urge to walk to his room and shut the door.

 

Yet again, he was proven incorrect, because when Koutarou looked up to see Kenma, he smiled and jumped to his feet excitedly. It looked as though the teacher had managed to avoid getting _as artified_ as the man currently holding Kenma’s hand. “Kenma!” He bounced from foot to foot as though unable to contain his own energy and tapped two fingers against his left cheek.

 

A long time ago, Kenma had discovered just how physically affectionate Koutarou was, and because Kenma wasn’t always up for being pulled into a warm bear hug or touched at all, he and Koutarou had developed a sign system that allowed Koutarou to ask Kenma if he was okay with being touched without having to talk about it.

 

Kenma nodded, and Koutarou dove in to envelop the smaller man in one of those genuine and warm hugs and dislodging his hand from Kuroo’s. Koutarou gave the best hugs, second to Kuroo, of course. Kenma’s feet were off the ground for a few seconds. He wished he could hug Kuroo without it transmitting art crap.

 

“You have to see the inside! It’s fantastic. We even put blankets in and we are gonna cut out windows.” Bokuto’s eyes were shining.

 

“O..kay. Ummm...” He didn’t really get a chance to say anything before he found himself with a view of Koutarou’s butt as he crawled through and followed. He was having an easier time making it through the small space than the other two who cursed a little as their height and width threatened the structure. A few seconds later, he was laying in a rather wide low ceilinged space with blankets, pillows ,and a string of Christmas lights. There were drawings along the walls, but it wasn’t as busy as the outside, and the large box of art supplies was sitting open and off to the side. They must have just started in here.

 

“C’mon. Lay down and look at the ceiling,” Kuroo said patting a space between him and Koutarou.

 

Kenma did as told, trying to not melt into the heat of the two larger men that flanked either side of him. He had not been this comfortable in a long time.

 

The string of lights illuminated the space just enough to see intricate patterns of star shaped stickers connected with lines of silver glitter on the ceiling. They were constellations.

 

“Tooru was here?” Kenma said, wishing that he could have seen the former setter.

 

“Yeah. When we told him that we needed his help and it involved glitter, he was here in less than ten minutes. I think he ran,” Kuroo said chuckling and scooting a little closer to Kenma.

 

“Iwaizumi has already texted that he is going to kill us the next time he sees us.” Kuroo’s grin was crooked and sly...full of mischief. It made him look sexy, even with the glitter.

 

Kenma tried to hate the warm and happy feeling in his chest but failed.

 

“Okay, not that this isn’t impressive, because it is, but why?” Kenma had to ask.

 

“Oh. Bo called and asked if I could help him do a dry run for a project he wanted to do with his class.”

 

“And that was a glitter filled cardboard castle?”  


“Yep.” Kuroo confirmed. He was pressed close enough to Kenma’s side that Kenma could feel the muscles in his arm move as he traced one of the constellations knocking lose a few pieces of glitter.

 

“I figured that if Kuroo and I enjoyed it, then my kids would too. I also wanted to make sure I could make a structure that would last at least a day with those little hellions,” Koutarou was using a marker to write on a wall.

 

“Sound reasoning. You guys are kind of like kids...maybe more destructive though.” Kenma ignored the indignant “hey”and scoff he received in response. “How is it that you are the only one who looks like art vomit?” Kenma asked Kuroo. To be fair, Koutarou did have some on him, but Kuroo looked like he had taken a bath in the crap.

 

“Keep it up Kitten, and I will hug you ‘til you look just like me,” Kuroo sassed, smirking.

 

Kenma tried not to think too hard about that...how he would be covered by Kuroo’s body and how much he would enjoy it. Having a boyfriend apparently had yet to quell his desire for his best friend. It was even more disconcerting that he had problems being intimate with Takeo. It wasn’t that Kenma didn’t like sex. As he had explained to Takeo, he had topped before and enjoyed it, therefore he _wasn’t_ a virgin, but that didn’t mean he was ready to do that with Takeo. Intimacy was something that always came slowly for Kenma, and he didn’t want to force it. The people he had been sexually active with had always been trusted and close, and Takeo just wasn’t there yet.

 

“It’s all Oikawa’s fault,” Koutarou tattled leaning close to Kenma’s ear. “Look closely at Kuroo’s hair,” he whispered, sending chill bumps down Kenma’s left side.

 

Rolling over, Kenma couldn’t contain his giggle. “Oh...oh shit...Kuroo...”

 

“What? What?!” Kuroo frantically ran his hands through his hair, shedding massive amounts of glitter.

 

“Oikawa dumped it on his head...the dweeb didn’t even feel it,” Koutarou said, laughing.

 

“And you _let_ him? Shame on you Bo...Were you ever going to tell me?” He sounded so offended, but his body language said otherwise.

 

“It was a whole vial of it too,” Koutarou said happily.

 

Kenma snickered into Kuroo’s shoulder and was hit with just how good he smelled. “You are gonna have to quit your job and become a stripper...it’s official. No one at your job will be able to take you seriously. _I_ can’t take you seriously.” It felt good to be talking like this. He was still very quiet around Takeo.

 

“Have you ever? I think I would make great money as a stripper….” He struck a pose that would have been awful without sequins falling onto the blanket, but as it was, when he grinned and Kenma caught a glimpse of pink sparkles in between the man’s two front teeth it made it ridiculous.

 

“Ha, not with the way you dance,” Kenma quipped.

 

“Or with that hair,” Koutarou chimed in.

 

Their discussion continued, as did their merciless teasing of Kuroo, while Kenma added some of his own art to the wall. He had to admit, this was going to be great for the kids. He wondered what it said about the three of them, being grown ass men, thoroughly enjoying something meant for children six and under.

 

Eventually, Koutarou grew quiet and was snoring loudly next to him. Both Kenma and Kuroo made sure to keep their voices low.

 

“He really is a great teacher,” Kuroo said as Kenma laid over his stomach to finish his drawing of a three fairies being murdered by a stick figure with really wild hair. He was making sure to use a lot of glitter. Art did reflect life, after all. Kenma had already given up on trying to keep the art supplies off of him.

 

Kenma nodded and pulled back to lie between the two men. How the hell was this so cozy?

 

“I’m glad your home, even though you are sassy as fuck,” Kuroo said seriously as he flicked Kenma’s artwork and tugged on Kenma’s hair. He was close enough that Kenma could feel his breath on his face.

 

Kenma tugged on Kuroo’s ear in response. He liked the way Kuroo closed his eyes, like he was enjoying the feeling of Kenma’s fingers against his ear.“I’m glad I’m home too, even if I have to deal with the eyesore that is your artwork. Don’t quit your day job.” He said it lowly, embarrassed by the sentimentality of it all. He meant every word he said though, about the artwork and the fact that he was happy to be home. It had only been an hour at most, but Kenma was already feeling like a huge stone had been lifted off his chest.

 

Kuroo paused in a way that let Kenma know he was about to ask something he wasn’t sure about asking. “How are things with Takeo?” Kuroo had rolled to his side, settling his full attention on Kenma.

 

Kenma thought about it, and said what he knew to be the truth. “I don’t know.”

 

“Hm. I was worried after the thing at the restaurant… I know you said you were okay, but if...”

 

“It’s not that. I’m really bad at this.” The words rushed out. It wasn’t Takeo’s fault that he was hard to get along with, bad at communicating, and difficult. If he had actually explained his sexual experience to Takeo, that incident would have never occurred. K _uroo always acts like he can’t tell that I’m weird._

 

“Bad at what?” Kuroo’s eyes were trained on Kenma’s face. In the dim lighting of their cardboard haven, Kenma couldn’t see the fine lines around Kuroo’s eyes or the smattering of grey in his hair. It made Kuroo look younger, more his age.

 

“Being a boyfriend. Being in a relationship.” He looked down at his fingers which had tangled themselves on a loose string hanging off of Kuroo’s t-shirt. They were sparkling with glitter.

 

“Why do you think that? I doubt that you are.” Kuroo was frowning.

 

“I keep on fucking up. I…” He was stopped by a very loud sharp snore from Koutarou.

 

Kuroo jumped a little, smiled fondly, and chuckled. “Akaashi must sleep like the dead.”  
A scoot closer to Kenma, and Kuroo’s long arm was reaching over to shake the sleeping man. “Bo. Bo! Turn onto your side.” Koutarou turned over with a little more prodding that Kenma was happy to help with.

 

Kenma reminded himself that Takeo was his boyfriend and fought his own traitorous hands to keep them from pushing underneath Kuroo’s shirt. He was so close that Kenma could have nuzzled his nose into Kuroo’s sternum and he almost did, but Kuroo pulled away to lay on his back. He was still very close though, and Kenma felt a comfort in that.

 

They stayed there talking quietly about nothing and looking at Tooru’’s constellations for an indeterminate amount of time until Kenma started yawning. With drooping eyes, he curled on his side to put his forehead on Kuroo’s shoulder. “I think Tooru wrote ‘Kuroo sucks’ in the stars on Kotarou’s side,” he slurred, seconds from sleep.

 

Kuroo yawned and laughed at the same time making a strange sound in the back of his throat. Kenma felt Kuroo pull away and move around, presumably to lay on his stomach. When he was finally settled, he was closer, and Kenma’s face was pressed against Kuroo’s other shoulder.

 

Just before falling asleep he heard Kuroo whisper, “the lambda point is -271 degrees Celsius Kitten, and you are too hard on yourself.”

...

Kuroo felt the walls around him shake and heard the sound of scratching, but tried to ignore it because he had been having a wonderful dream, please and thank you, and he really wanted to get back to it. But the walls kept moving and the noise wasn’t going away, so he had to open his eyes, because _what the hell was that?_ Confusion reigned until the feel of Kenma’s fingers tangled his shirt sleeve and the sound of Bokuto’s soft snores reminded him that he was inside a cardboard castle. A look up revealed that the source of the noise was someone using a pair of scissors to make a hole in the top of the cardboard. Seconds later, Kuroo was unsurprised to see Akaashi poke his head inside a soft almost indiscernible smile forming as he took in the scene.

 

“There are many strange things I have come to expect when walking into your apartment Kuroo-san, but this is one I have never considered,” he said taking in all three of them. To be honest, Kuroo had been expecting for Akaashi to make a bit more fun of their predicament.

 

“Oh, you mean three adult men napping in a five year old’s greatest wish,” he retorted. Kenma was stirring beside him, but Bokuto was still snuggled into Kenma’s back.

 

“That and...you are shockingly well decorated, even more so than the castle,” Akaashi stated, looking Kuroo up and down.

 

“Why thank you Akaashi. I _am_ a work of art, you know.”

 

A soft mewl indicated that Kenma was awake, not moving, but awake. “A bad work of art...Keiji?”

 

Kuroo stopped himself from kissing the top of Kenma’s head, but it was a close thing.

 

“Hello Kenma.” Akaashi was smiling wider. “It is good to see you. We have missed you.” He made the words sound even more sincere than Kuroo’s had. “If you do not mind, would you please kick the man behind you. I would like to take my boyfriend home now.”

 

Kenma kicked ,and Bo was up in seconds, looking dazed.

 

“Bokuto, come home with me. I’m finished with my project and have made us dinner.” Akaashi demanded.

 

“Wha… Hey babe! What do you think of the castle?”

 

“It is very creative, and it must be comfortable, but now it is time for you to come home. _I require your presence.”_

 

Kuroo immediately realized that Akaashi was probably hinting at a sex thing. It took Bokuto a few moments of thinking to get it, and Kuroo found himself smiling at the look of concentration his friend was sporting. He was probably still half asleep.

 

“Oh...OH!” Bokuto yelled the moment he caught up to what Akaashi was hinting at. “Hey, hey, hey! I gotta go guys.” He smacked the side of Kuroo’s cheek and squeezed Kenma’s shoulder before making his way out of their space. He called back over his shoulder, “I’ll be back tomorrow to help clean this stuff up. That okay?”

 

“It’s cool. I had fun. Thanks for calling me,” Kuroo said to Bokuto’s retreating butt.

 

Neither he nor Kenma moved.

 

“Wanna keep on napping?” He asked, knowing the answer already. Kenma’s eyes were doing that thing where they open and close slowly, a little bit like a cat’s.

 

The next few minutes stacked another set of reasons onto the shelf labeled ‘Reasons Kuroo Doesn’t Like Takeo.’

 

Kenma was right on the edge of sleep. Kuroo could tell because he was doing that thing where he wiggled his toes and they were rubbing against one of his calves. Just as his friend’s breath hitched, the last thing that usually happened before his breathing evened out, Kenma’s phone dinged multiple times.

 

Kenma groaned and blindly searched for his phone, but Kuroo rolled over and found the device first and placed it in Kenma’s hand. When Kenma rolled to the side, Kuroo did the same, practically spooning him and reading over his shoulder. The slope of the smaller man’s shoulder and the paleness of the skin there momentarily captured his attention. He wondered what that skin would look like red with kisses and beard burn. Kuroo shook off the urge to kiss into the crook of Kenma’s neck and concentrated on the phone.

 

_Hey I thought you were going to call me today?_

 

_Are you ignoring me?_

 

_Seriously Kenma, answer. I’m worried._

 

Kenma replied, and Kuroo continued reading. _I’m busy. I forgot to call. Trying to nap._

 

Takeo responded, and Kuroo had to resist the urge to smack at the phone.

 

_Napping during the day? I thought we talked about that. It isn’t good for you. I bet you’ve been playing video games all day too?_

 

Kenma responded with an annoyed huff. _Maybe. I am going to sleep. I will text you when I wake up. I’m tired._

 

_Fine. Just let me know when you are awake and we’ll talk about it then. This is kind of inconsiderate though._

 

At that, Kenma set his phone down obviously tense, and curled into Kuroo.

 

“He knows that your sleep schedule is...” dinging interrupted him again. He couldn’t stop the small growl that left his mouth. “Will you turn that on mute so we can sleep.”

 

Kenma, eyes already closing for sleep, nodded and pressed a button on the side of his phone.

 

Kenma fell asleep before Kuroo, and Kuroo watched as Kenma nuzzled into his chest, hands clutching at his shirt. With a sigh, Kuroo swallowed his emotions and placed his fingers in Kenma’s hair.

 

Kuroo just about choked on his anger.

 

For one, Kenma’s sleep schedule was different, and that was just how it was. Kenma’s eyes had dark circles and bags and Kuroo had no doubt that it was because Takeo was trying to make Kenma move to a different schedule.

 

Two, Kenma had lost weight. Kuroo hadn’t said anything, because he didn’t want Kenma to feel self conscious, but it obvious that Kenma had not been eating well. Takeo was stressing Kenma out. That much was evident.

 

Three, those texts were a bit obsessive… manipulative even. He wondered if maybe he was just being too over protective, but Kenma could not have been out of Takeo’s sight for more than three hours, and the way he was talking to Kenma didn’t sit right.

 

Four, obviously Takeo had made Kenma feel like he wasn’t a good boyfriend. And well….Kuroo thought that Takeo should just be happy to have Kenma.

 

Bokuto popped into his mind, reminding him that he had missed being able to help one friend in a time of duress. They had been living so far apart from one another, there would have been no way for Kuroo to know what was going on. Kuroo still didn’t know the details of what happened, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa, the only ones that had been there at the time, were tight lipped about all of it.

 

 

Kuroo needed to figure out if he was just feeling this way because of his emotional attachment to Kenma or if his gut feelings were correct. Either way, he planned on taking Kenma out to eat and letting him sleep whenever the fuck he wanted. Hell, he would probably sleep with him.

 

Kuroo hated to admit it, but he had been restless and grumpy while Kenma was at Takeo’s. Arata had actually refused to hang out with him the past two days because of his attitude. So he needed to catch up on sleep too.

 

Kuroo knew that he needed to let Kenma have his own relationship, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

...

Akaashi had texted Bokuto a total six times throughout the day and received only one response.

 

This was what one would call _abnormal behavior_ on Bokuto’s part. Bokuto love d to communicate and typically _over_ communicated, and while it could be a little bit grating, Akaashi was actually quite fond of this particular aspect of Bokuto’s personality. Akaashi grew up in a household where any communication was always bad communication, and even then, it was reached without words but with actions. Disapproving looks that could never be deciphered or blank gazes where there should have been interest were, by and large, how he remembered his parents. Of course, not all had been bad, and he sincerely cared for the people who gave birth to him, but his upbringing made Bokuto’s ability to tell a person exactly what he thought and felt quite refreshing, even if his mood waxed and waned like the moon. 

 

Akaashi could remember when he used to find Bokuto uncomfortable or hard to handle because of his emotional openness. Now, he merely cherished the fact that he didn’t have to play guessing games to find out what was going on with the person he was closest with.

 

Akaashi could also remember a very short period in time when Bokuto was quiet, reserved, and seemingly unemotional. Akaashi never ever wanted to see him like that again.

 

This was why Akaashi was hurrying home.

 

Something was wrong with Bokuto, but not in the normal way, because as he had already learned years ago, Bokuto would  _say_ what was on his mind. 

 

Akaa sh i had an idea of what it was. It was the only thing that got Bokuto into this type of slump nowadays,  and it was a topic that had not been brought up for at least a year, maybe more. Akaashi made it a point to never avoid the subject  but had  let it fade over time.  He now wondered if it was a mistake to let it fade without talking it through thoroughly. Therefore, he was walking home ready to make Bokuto talk, if necessary. Honestly, if the problem was what Keiji expected, then the subject matter was something he wanted to discuss as well. 

 

As he had assumed it would, a dark apartment greeted him. He found his lover on the bed, curled up, but wide awake.

 

“You did not reply to my texts,” he stated.

 

“Sorry,” Bokuto replied, but he didn’t sound despondent, or worse, like he had no life to him. Akaashi would always live in fear of that dead eyed apathetic demeanor Bokuto learned to don. He had always been aware of a little bit of darkness inside of Bokuto, but it was nothing like what he had become acquainted with those few years ago, after having been apart for so long.

 

Akaashi removed his button down, and crawled into the bed. Both of them were over the covers, and for only an instant, he hesitated to wrap himself around Bokuto’s back .  It was still strange for him, to have someone who was always okay with physical affection. “Do not be sorry. Tell me what’s wrong.” He pressed his palm against Bokuto’s chest, happy to feel the steady rhythm of his heart.

 

“I’ve just needed some time to think.” Bokuto’s big hand found his and squeezed. 

 

Keiji debated on the merit of bringing up what he figured was on Bokuto’s mind, and decided that candor  _was_ the better part of valor. “Is it about Kenma?” 

 

Bokuto turned to face him, to train those big expressive eyes on his own, like Keiji had just said something astounding.

 

“I shouldn’t be amazed at how you know what’s going on with me _all_ the time, but I am,” Bokuto sighed. He  placed his hand on Keiji’s bicep and rubbed the skin with his thumb, always so tactile. “Yeah, it is. I can remember a time when I had such a hard time reading Kenma, ya know, but now….” 

 

“You can tell something is off.”

 

Bokuto nodded.

 

“It’s because of what happened at the restaurant?” Akaashi prompted, remembering Bokuto’s mood afterward.

 

“Yep… and yesterday.”

 

“In the art vomit castle? What happened?” Keiji had to take a mental step back, because his mind jumped to conclusions that didn’t make sense. If someone had blatantly hurt Kenma, Kuroo would have not been as calm as he had been, nor would Bokuto. Whatever was going on, was much more subtle.

 

“It’s kind of stupid. I’m worried that I’m jumping to conclusions because of...” Bokuto floundered and sputtered for a moment.

 

Keiji provided, “because of what happened to you.” He hated how soft he spoke the words. Akaashi, more than anything to face that particular topic with openness and bravery, without the soft sound of a whisper.

 

Bokuto grimaced. Akaashi hated that grimace, because it meant that Bokuto was still struggling with what had happened to him. Bokuto still blamed himself, still hated the word “happened”. Bokuto would much rather hear the words “what you did” or “what you _let_ happen”. Keiji was aware of this and was having none of it.

 

“I believe,” Akaashi chose his words slowly, carefully. “You would the best judge of a situation like that. I trust your judgment. What are you thinking?” For the moment, he was keeping his own thoughts on the subject to himself. He wanted Kotarou to talk.

 

“Yesterday, it was the way he looked at me when he first saw me. I looked at him, and I saw how I would feel anytime I finally got to see and talk to someone when I was with Hachiro.” 

 

“How did he look at you?” It was a selfish question. This was the one thing it was hard to get Bokuto to talk about, and Keiji reveled when he opened up about it.

 

“Like he was scared I was gonna yell at him or be mad or...I don’t know, like he was prepared for me to step all over him. It was only a second, but I can remember seeing friends and being worried that they wouldn’t want to see me or that they would be angry. It was written all over his face, and he looked guilty. Kenma never looks like that. Shy, anxious, stoic, but never like...scared of us.” Bokuto rolled onto his back and rubbed his hand over his face. 

 

Akaashi slid over to place his head on Bokuto’s shoulder. “We were never...”

 

“I know. I know.” Kotarou’s voice was cracking a little. “I just never want someone else to feel like that. No one should ever feel like that.”

 

Silence fell as both thought. Keiji about what he wanted to ask. Bokuto about what he wanted to say.

 

Bokuto broke the quiet. “What Takeo said in the restaurant...”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I agree with Oikawa. He wasn’t making a joke. He was trying to make Kenma feel self conscious and guilty. Hachiro used to do that to me all the time. He would pressure me by embarrassing me. It also bothers me because what he said isn’t true.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Kenma isn’t a virgin. He’s had sex with Hinata, at the very least. Hinata told me.”

 

“Oh,” Akaashi said. He recalled the way Hinata had looked at Takeo like he was stupid, and now it made sense. “What was the point?” He could guess, but he wanted to hear Koutarou answer.

 

“The point was, I believe, to pressure Kenma into having sex with him. He made an incorrect assumption and tried to use it to get what he wanted. I can’t know for sure though, but that is what I think.” Bokuto sounded very bitter, which sounded so wrong, because Bokuto wasn’t by nature a bitter person. “It makes me mad, because anyone even close to our age should know better. You know how Kenma is about physical stuff anyway.”

 

Every single time Akaashi learned something new about  Hachiro , he hated him more.  He was gleaning a lot from this conversation,  none of it good .  Akaashi knew  only  a little bit about Bokuto’s past relationship, and most of that information had been obtained through  Oikawa and Iwaizumi.  Kuroo and Kenma knew even less because they had been living in different cities at the time “  I do.  Do you think we should do something?” 

 

“I don’t know.” He pulled Akaashi closer. “I just… ugh… did you notice how he didn’t have his game or phone out? Did you see how Takeo tried to move Kenma _outside_ of our circle? At first, I figured I was just being crazy and seeing stuff where there was nothing, because we all get like that with Kenma, but it’s not just that.” 

 

“If we confronted Kenma about it, would it do any good? Would it have done you any good?” Akaashi asked. The question was a selfish one, designed to either validate or lessen Akaashi’s own guilt. All he could think about was how in the beginning, before Bokuto had started sporadically showing up with bruises and limps, Bokuto had exhibited many of the same mannerisms that Kenma was now. That was before Bokuto had basically disappeared from their lives. How long would Akaashi regret not chasing him? Silently, Akaashi made a promise to himself that he would keep a closer eye on Kenma. Maybe if he had done the same for Bokuto, things would not have become as dire as they had. Akaashi mindlessly rubbed his fingers across the smooth pink scar across Bokuto’s neck.

 

“I don’t know. Even if I said I think it would’ve helped me, that doesn’t mean I think it would help Kenma. It seems strange though, the way he’s acting. Kenma has never struck me as the type to put up with too much shit. What’s changed?”

 

“I don’t know. I think that all we can do now is watch out for him, and be there when he needs us,” Akaashi said, thinking about how that was all they could do for Bokuto in the end. One thing was for sure, though, Akaashi would not make the same mistake twice. He would take action at the first sign that things were escalating.

 

“You’re right.” Bokuto agreed.

 

Akaashi didn’t say anything. Unwillingly, his mind went down the rabbit hole of what ifs and regret that accompanied his guilt.

 

“Akaashi.” Bokuto pulled back to look at Akaashi’s face. “What’s wrong? I don’t want you to worry about Kenma. I don’t think he would ever let it get like I did with Hachiro.”

 

Akaashi shook his head. Would Bokuto ever stop saying things in a way that put the blame on himself?

 

“We just got look out for him, and Takeo isn’t Hachiro,” Bokuto finished. His lips found Akaashi’s cheek wet with tears, unseen in the dimness of the room. “Hey, don’t cry. He’ll be okay.”

 

“That’s not it Bokuto. I’m worried. Don’t get me wrong. But...” Akaashi swallowed back the lump in his throat, quelling his tears. He didn’t have a right to cry about this.

 

“Then what’s wrong?” Bokuto asked as he brought his palm to rest on the side of Akaashi’s neck. It was big and warm and made Akaashi feel like he was cherished. Which he was, and he knew that.

 

Akaashi pointedly rubbed the pads of his fingers against the pink line marring Bokuto’s muscular neck. “I can’t help thinking about what would have happened if Oikawa and Iwaizumi had not been there for you when you were so far away from us, if they hadn’t checked up on you the way they did. I can’t help hating the idea of what would have happened to you if they hadn’t been there...if Iwaizumi had not found you in time.”

 

“Akaashi, you’ve said it before yourself. There is no point in drowning in the unchangeable past. Right?”

 

Yeah, he had said that, but it didn’t stop the tears.

 

“C’mere.” Bokuto pulled him closer, and the kiss he placed on Akaashi’s lips was sweet.

Bokuto’s eyes traveled over what felt like every nook and cranny of Akaashi’s face. Bokuto’s voice was a whisper, but the tone didn’t lack in conviction. “We will be there for Kenma, and at the first sign of trouble, we will do all we can to make sure he is safe. Right now though, I need you to stop thinking about that.” He sat up long enough to remove his t-shirt. “I want you to just think of me and you, right now.”

 

Akaashi sighed at the feeling of Bokuto’s lips praising his skin, and could not stop himself from letting his own hands travel against the tan expanse of muscle now bared to him. Bokuto was alive, heartbeat thumping against Akaashi’s palm, skin warm and glowing. Bokuto’s eyes were broadcasting want and love and need.

 

It wasn’t long before they were both bare and against each other, making love, and pushing the past back to a dark corner where it belonged.


	4. On Deaf Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! I am so sorry about how long it took me to update this, but a mixture of writer's block and insanity in my workplace made it impossible to update. 
> 
> To everyone who gave kudos, feedback, and/or encouragement: THANK YOU! You have no idea (or maybe you do) just how much your comments and kudos help to keep a person writing. 
> 
> This chapter was really hard, and I am not happy with it. It has been erased and rewritten at least four times. I had to post it before I completely erased it again.

 

 

 

 

Kenma dreamed of warmth against his back and friction against his skin from calloused and familiar hands…hands frantically rubbing against his stomach, chest, and thighs, leaving a red flush in their wake. It was as though his body was touch starved, and before he could stop himself he was moaning and leading those hands to the waist band of his pants, and God did it feel fantastic. The harsh breaths and the low voice resounding his name made his hips buck back into the heat of Kuroo’s erection, reveling in the low grunt the action elicited. Kuroo surrounded him, his presence filling all of Kenma’s senses, making him hyper aware of how much bigger Kuroo was than him. Kuroo grabbed on to Kenma’s hip tightly started to grind against him. As kisses were scattered across the back of his neck, shoulder, and cheek, a sound, incongruous to the mood made Kenma jolt.

 

He fought to hold on to the sensation, to hold onto the escalation of his heartbeat in perfect rhythm with the undulations of Kuroo’s hips and the palm rubbing against his dick, but it didn’t last. It never did.

 

Kenma woke to a painful erection, the muffled sounds of clanging, and the lilted whine of Tooru’s voice.

 

At first, he had thought that he was still dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time. Ever since he had been spending more time at Takeo’s, dreams about his friends and his own apartment had come with poignancy and frequency.

 

He took stock of his surroundings and within a second remembered that he _was_ home, in a castle made of boxes and glitter. Kuro had covered him with his favorite blanket and it smelled so distinctly of their laundry detergent he could not help but snuggle into it. He had no clue as to what time it was, and because he was home, he realized it didn’t matter.

 

Kenma avoided looking at his phone. The notification light was blinking with what looked like ferocity, but was probably just his imagination. Takeo could wait. This was supposed to be his time with his friends.

 

As he calmed his libido and was pondering exactly what made Tooru make that sound, the castle shook, glitter fell around him with the vibrations, and within moments, Keiji was laying down beside him. He smelled like sandalwood.

 

“What’s going on out there?” Kenma asked, voice cracking from sleep.

 

Keiji leveled him with a very serious look and said, “bedlam. Absolute bedlam.”

 

“So it isn’t safe?” Kenma said, as seriously as possible. He and Keiji played this game often, seeing who would smirk or smile first.

 

“Never. Oikawa is cooking.” Keiji looked through the tunnel he had just come through, as though he expected Tooru to jump out like a monster.

 

“No one stopped him?”

 

“We were too late. He was here too early. I am sorry, there was nothing I could do to stop it,” Akaashi said. His intonation never changed, but the side of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. He then wiggled bit closer beside Kenma and studied the ceiling.

 

“At least, we will suffer together,” Kenma said evenly, as though they were discussing something monumentally serious. He reflected that there was a possibility that it was.

 

Akaashi looked at the constellations with one raised eyebrow. It was obvious when he saw Tooru’s message to Kuro, because he lightly snickered.

 

Kenma could never get over just how pretty the man beside him was. It was a mild source of jealousy, but mostly, it was something Kenma simply enjoyed...looking at Keiji. He supposed that Keiji’s demeanor was a large part of the appeal as well.

 

“He’s on another organic food kick, so...” Keiji left the sentence unfinished.

 

Kenma groaned. “He can’t possibly make that much of a disaster out of breakfast.” Memories of a past dinner debacle that had left the entire group refusing to touch soup, of any kind, for at least a year, ran through his mind.

 

“That may be true, but he’s making lunch. It’s almost noon.”

 

Kenma marveled at the number of hours he had been asleep. With that realization came the very real need to pee. Sitting up inspired a groan.

 

“Are you ready to see chaos in action?” Keiji asked, mirroring him by raising to a sitting position.

 

As if on cue, they heard Hajime yell, “damnit Trashkawa!”, Kotarou screech, “you wouldn’t?!”, and Kuroo’s voice boom out that yes, he would, and with fanfare.

 

“No.” A sigh escaped. “But I have to use the bathroom.”

 

They exited the castle and Kenma made his way to the restroom with no interruption, something he was thankful for.

 

The scene he walked in on in the kitchen was as strange as it was endearing. No one seemed to notice that he was leaning against the entryway.

 

Hajime and Koutarou were holding Kuroo down in a chair, and Kuroo was struggling to get up, face red with exertion. Keiji was leaning in a corner, watching with avid interest. Tooru was using a wooden spoon, covered in something brown and gooey, to hit Hajime, who was not fazed. The brown goop was flying and making soft splatting noises as it hit the wall with ever backstroke of Tooru’s arm. Tooru had what was probably flour all over his clothing, his hair was an absolute disaster, and he was pouting.

 

“You drew the short straw Kuroo! It’s fair,” Iwaizumi said, grunting a bit with the effort of keeping Kuroo down.

 

“It.” He smacked Hajime’s bicep with the spoon. “Isn’t.” He hit him again. “That bad!” Tooru continue to pummel his significant other with the spoon. “You are all just mean.” He seemed to be losing some of his energy.

 

“This...” Kuroo tried to stand up and squirm out of the two other men’s grips, but failed. “… is cruel and unusual punishment.”

 

Tooru put his hands in the air. More of whatever the hell was on the spoon landed on a different wall with the motion. “Cruel and unusual, you say. How about how you are treating me, huh? You guys are just being melodramatic.” His nose scrunched and eyes narrowed as he glared at the three men.

 

Kenma covered his mouth to hide a giggle. Tooru’s cheek was sparkling with glitter, and a longer look revealed that it was all over other parts of his skin as well.

 

Completely in sync, all three replied with, “no, we’re not.”

 

“Ugh!” Tooru stomped away to stand beside Keiji.

 

Keiji took one look at the mess on the other man’s clothes, or maybe it was the glitter, and stepped sideways, placing one more foot between the two of them.

 

Kenma turned his attention back to the action.

 

“Bo, I thought you were my friend,” Kuroo pleaded, trying to look pitiful. When he turned his head to look up at Koutarou, glitter dropped slowly from his hair. It made Kenma think of a snow globe.

 

“I am, but we’re doing this for the good of everyone. Now, sit still. It’ll all be over in a second.” Koutarou said kindly. The tone made Kenma think it was the way he talked to his students.

 

Kuroo whined.

 

“Akaashi, get the spoon,” Hajime ordered.

 

Keiji retrieved the utensil from the proper drawer and dipped it into a pot on the stove. His movement toward Kuroo was steady and purposeful.

 

“I’m not doin’ it,” Kuroo cried. “I’d rather eat a bag of dicks.”

 

“Well, yeah, you’re gay, and wouldn't we all. Now open your mouth,” Hajime said.

 

Kuroo did the exact opposite and turned his face away. Keiji waited patiently.

 

The following actions made him wish he had not left his phone in the castle. The video would have been worth Kenma’s weight in gold.

 

With great effort the three men managed to get the goop all over Kuroo’s face and finally into his mouth. The face Kuroo first made was surprise, then disgust, and then panic. His faced turned a shade of red Kenma had never seen before, and then the coughing started. There was a mad dash to refrigerator, milk was consumed, and after about fifteen minutes Kuroo spoke.

 

“Oikawa you ass! Were you trying to kill us!”

 

“No!” the offender cried, indignantly. “I followed the recipe perfectly.”

 

“Where exactly did you get it from?” Hajime asked as he handed Kuroo a cold wet rag.

 

“Satan,” Kenma mumbled under his breath.

 

“That’s right, it had to be the devil, because that shit came from the fires of hell!” Kuroo spat indignantly.

 

Kenma moved to lean against the counter next to where Kuroo was sitting. From there, he could see beads of sweat along Kuroo’s hairline. A perverse part of him wanted to lick a drop that made it’s way from the other man’s temple and down his neck. Shaking his head he reached beside him to wet another rag and place it across the back of Kuroo’s neck.

 

“It is a traditional Indian recipe. It had like… four stars or something,” Oikawa argued. “How was I supposed to know that it would be that spicy?”

 

“Because of the amount of spice you had to put in it while you were cooking,” Bokuto said.

 

“Or maybe the four stars meant on a scale of one to three how hot it was,” Hajime supplied.

 

“I think a better indicator was that it was from a website called thedevilcooks.com,” Kenma sassed, loving the way Kuroo huffed out a laugh.

 

Oikawa held his nose up in the air and said something lowly that might have been an apology or a snide remark.

 

“Oikawa is buying us all pizza,” Kuroo said. “You are also going to give me five dollars every time I want curry and have to realize you have ruined it for me.”

 

“Fine, you wuss.” Oikawa left to go make the call, already knowing what everyone would want.

 

They found themselves in the living room, taking up the space not invaded by cardboard, watching a bad action movie, and lounging with full bellies and hearty laughs. Kenma relaxed into Oikawa’s side, and watched as the people he loved interacted.

 

After their guests left, Kenma and Kuroo decided to go back to the castle. They spent some time reading and playing video games, and it wasn’t long until both were sleeping. Kenma tried to hold on to the content and happy feeling the evening left him with.

 

–

 

Kuroo could feel Sugawara staring at him, and it was unnerving.

 

He wasn’t sure what could have sparked _that_ look, but it definitely made Kuroo want to squirm. It was making him self-conscious. He really wished he could find Daichi and ask him exactly what the fuck that kind of look meant. He was much closer with Daichi and had only had the opportunity to speak. with Sugawara a handful of times. It wasn’t that he was adverse to talking to Daichi’s significant other, but at the moment, not knowing Sugawara well meant that he was completely unable to read the intense facial expression being thrown his way every minute or so. If he didn’t know any better, he might think he was being mean mugged.

 

Because of that ambiguous glare, Kuroo was having trouble concentrating on the person talking to him, until said person pulled at his bangs.

 

“Are you even listening to me Kuroo?” Hinata’s face was scrunched adorably, and his cheeks were red.

 

“Yeah. I just have trouble hearing you from all the way down there,” he said grinning.

 

Hinata stomped his foot and pouted which was the exact reaction Kuroo had wanted. “I was asking you when you leave for your vacation,” he huffed.

 

“Four days,” he replied, resisting the urge to ruffle Hinata’s hair. Selfishly, he refrained from adding that Kenma was going to be home for the three days before he left. He didn’t want to share his time with Kenma. He wished Kenma was there with him right then, listening to Hinata chatter and making sarcastic little comments under his breath.

 

Hinata looked like he was about to say something, probably at a loud volume, if the deep breath he took was any indicator, but was disrupted by Sugawara’s hand on his shoulder. The ash blond seemed to appear out of nowhere behind Hinata.

 

“Hey, Daichi said he needs help with the sound system. I think he crossed some wires or something,” Sugawara stated while turning Hinata toward where Daichi’s feet were sticking out from behind the entertainment center.

 

“I’ll be back Kuroo.” Hinata puffed out his cheeks and stomped away, yelling for them to stop messing with his speakers.

 

Through the static like tension forming between himself and Sugawara, Daichi’s muffled voice rang across the room.

 

“So, I am assuming you are giving me the scary look for a reason Sugawara. What’s up?” Kuroo made the question come out as nonchalantly as possible.

 

Sugawara blinked a few times and shook his head. He was still frowning, but looked considerably less intense. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a look like that, and call me Suga, please.”

 

“S’okay.” Kuroo gave his reassurance and waited impatiently for a well deserved explanation. He _had_ been dealing with being mean mugged and side eyed the entire evening.

 

The other man’s expression softened, making his eyes seem less hard and unforgiving. “Do you mind if we sit somewhere a little more quiet?” Suga gestured toward the laundry room, and winced at the sound of a speaker screeching. Suga mumbled something about “Daichi” and “fucking electronics”.

 

Kuroo led the way, and Suga shut the door behind them. They wasted no time in sitting across each other, Suga on the washer and Kuroo on the dryer. The scent of dryer sheets hung heavy in the air. There was a shirt hanging right beside Suga’s head, and the size of it had Kuroo wondering if Hinata was now actually bigger across the shoulders and chest than Kenma. He really missed Kenma.

 

“So, what’s this about?” Kuroo asked and took a sip of the mixed drink he had been holding the entire night. The ice had melted which made it taste grosser than it had before.

 

“I heard Hinata say something about Kenma dating a guy named Takeo. Did I hear correctly?”

 

Kuroo was taken aback. This what not what he had expected, and with an opening like that, there was a sense of foreboding. “Yeah, he’s dating a guy named Takeo. What about it?”

 

Suga closed his eyes and sighed. “What’s his given name? What does he look like?”

 

Kuroo cocked his head to the side and took another gulp of his shitty drink. Hinata was never making him another alcoholic beverage ever again. “Wha…?”

 

Suga held a hand up. “Just. Indulge me. Please. Before I say anything else, I need to know that it is the same person I think it is.”

 

“Sure. I think his first name is Souji.”

 

Suga visibly grit his teeth.

 

“He has dark hair, dark brown eyes, and he’s almost as tall as me. A bit muscular up top, but a little puny everywhere else, like he needs to skip arm day at the gym. Perfect hair.” Kuroo finished, lowered his arms from his head where he had been trying to emulate the way Takeo’s hair laid flat with his hands, and raised his eyebrows.

 

The deep breath Suga took was released over a count of ten seconds. Kuroo counted it to keep himself from shaking the other man into saying what he came here to say.

 

“I know it’s not my business, but I have to say something Kuroo, so just here me out.” Suga finally spoke.

 

“I’m all ears. The suspense is just about killing me,” Kuroo threw out the sarcasm like it was a shield. He wasn’t going to like whatever Suga was about to say.

 

“This is serious Kuroo.”

 

“Okay, well, I’m waiting.” He was being a dick because he was nervous. Kuroo was self-aware of this tendency.

 

“Are you and Kenma still close? Do you still talk to him?” Suga was playing with a leather bracelet tied to his left wrist. The man was nervous.

 

“Yes. He’s my best friend.” Why wouldn’t Suga just get to the fucking point?

 

“And you still care about him? Nothing’s happened since the last time we talked?”

 

“Of course I care about him! What the hell?” Kuroo didn’t like the implication that he wasn’t close to Kenma. It was hitting a little too close to home with how much time Kenma had been spending with Takeo.

 

“Sorry. I just want to make sure I was talking to the right person Kuroo. I knew you two were close, and I actually thought that...Nevermind.” Suga shook his head and continued. He was looking at his lap while he talked. “I know Takeo, and I pulled you in here, because he’s very bad news. Watch out for Kenma, and if you can, get him away from Takeo. In fact, I would go as far as to say you need to convince Kenma to break up with him and then, keep Kenma as far away from Takeo as possible.”

 

“Why? Not that I think Takeo’s an exemplary human being, but why so adamant? Why are you sticking your nose into our… no, Kenma’s business like this?” That wasn’t what he actually wanted to ask. He was afraid of what Suga would say if he did. A knot was starting to form in his chest, making his shoulders tense and his hand grip harder around his glass.

 

Suga raised his head, and Kuroo was reminded of all the times Daichi had described the ash blond as beautiful. Kuroo had never thought about it either way, but looking at Suga right now, he could see every adjective Daichi had used. He was all sharp intelligence, shrewd empathy, and soft lines. Vaguely, he registered the low thrum of bass coming from the living room. The speakers were working again, and the machine under him buzzed quietly with the beat.

 

“I don’t usually do stuff like this Kuroo, but Takeo isn’t a good man. I’m saying this because I don’t want Kenma to get seriously hurt, and I am under the impression that you don’t either.”

 

“I don’t.” His voice cracked. Kuroo was starting to admit to himself just how afraid of this conversation he was. The words ‘seriously hurt’ seemed to echo in his head.

 

Suga looked him over and then settled on his face, and whatever he saw there spurred him to hop off the washer, move forward, and lay his hand on top of Kuroo’s. The other man’s palm was warm and dry. In contrast, Kuroo was pretty sure his entire hand was sweating.

 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but you should be concerned for Kenma. Takeo is more of a monster than he seems.” Suga held eye contact.

 

Kuroo swallowed and looked away. Takeo seemed more than bad enough, and Suga’s words spurred his imagination into overdrive. He thought of Bokuto’s scar and his past and the warning signs that no one wanted to imagine were indicative of what was actually going on. Could that possibly be where Kenma was headed? Had he somehow missed the signs or ignored them?

 

C _oncerned_ _._ _Concern_ _ed for Kenma._

 

_Alpha Centauri is the closest star system to Earth,_ _and I am in love_ _with_ _Kenma. You have to ask.._ His inner voice was firm.

 

“What did he do?” Kuroo felt his countenance harden. He would face this head on. He had been ignoring his own instincts for too long. It was fear of the guilt he felt about ignoring his own intuition that had him faltering.

 

“He hurt someone I care for very deeply,” Suga supplied. “If I ever see him again, I don’t know if I will be able to control what I do.”

 

“Who did he hurt?” Kuroo ran through a mental list of people that it may be. He had worked in the same building as Takeo for years, but it wasn’t until recently that the man had started showing up at social functions.

 

“I can’t tell you, because I promised that I wouldn’t.”

 

“It wasn’t Daichi was it, because if...” Kuroo panicked, thinking that somehow he had missed the distress of another one of his good friends. None of them, not a single person who knew him, were over the guilt of what had happened to Bokuto, but they could damned sure prevent it from happening to anyone else.

 

“No. It wasn’t Daichi, and he doesn’t even know about what happened to this other person, just that something did.”

 

“Was it you?”

 

“No. It wasn’t.” Suga wasn’t lying. “You know the person, but they value their privacy. Give him that and stop asking.”

 

“Fine. Will you tell me what he did?” Kuroo almost didn’t want to know.

 

“No, but trust me when I say that Kenma needs to get away from Takeo, okay.”

 

Kuroo growled a little and dislodged Suga’s hand to wipe at his lip.

 

“Okay. I’ll talk to him. I just wish I could bring something to the table to convince him that Takeo’s horrible.” _Kenma’s stubborn,_ he wanted to add.

 

“I can’t give you that, because I promised to keep it a secret. Otherwise, I would.” Suga made his way toward the door. Before he opened it, he turned around and made more of that uncanny eye contact. He was like Kenma in the way he read people, Kuroo realized. “Kuroo, just…. can you tell me one thing?”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you in love with Kenma?”

 

“I...” _Carbon-12 makes up 99% of the carbon found on Earth._ His mind supplied the fact out of reflex. He looked as Suga and nodded. “Can we keep that between us?”

 

“I can, but I think most people already know,” Suga said. He kept his hand on the door knob and looked at the floor. “He caused my friend a lot of trauma, and I don’t want to see that happen to Kenma,” he stated and then walked out the door.

 

Kuroo spent a long amount of time in Hinata’s laundry room. When he emerged it was with a new resolve.

 

Kuroo stayed for only an hour longer. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Takeo could have possibly done for Suga to feel so strongly hateful. All of his possible guesses left him with an ever growing anxiety.

 

When he reached the apartment, he sat down and allowed himself to hug Kenma’s giant cat pillow to his chest. He was so worried that he almost called the head of HR to charm his way into Takeo’s address, so he could go and see Kenma right then and there, but Kuroo was sure that Kenma wouldn’t appreciate that.

 

He was certain that Takeo wasn’t physically harming Kenma. Kenma had the ability to hide many things emotionally, but if unwanted physical contact was involved, Kenma wouldn’t be able to conceal it. In fact, the past had taught Kuroo that when faced with a physical altercation of any kind, Kenma would break down and reach out immediately. It was the one line that could not be crossed with his best friend. He was the exact opposite of Bokuto in that way.

 

His fingered hovered over the button that would call Bokuto. Would Bo know what to do?

 

Kuroo didn’t know, and that is what stopped him, in the end. He didn’t want to trigger Bokuto. Kuroo could read between the lines...had seen the scar. Bokuto had been through enough.

 

He needed to deal with this on his own. He was Kenma’s best friend, after all.

 

He could feel the ghost of Kenma’s slender fingers and small palm pressing against his forehead when he typed out his text making sure that Kenma was coming home.

 

_I miss you. Please promise me that you will come home before I leave for vacation._

 

..

 

Kenma agreed to spend a few days with Kuroo before he left for his spa vacation with Arata.

 

It had been hard tearing away from Takeo, who seemed to be happier with him recently. It had been difficult, because there was an inherent fear that his absence would set them back a few steps. Maybe, he had finally changed enough to have a functioning relationship. It was exhausting and hard and there were days when he just wanted to stay in bed or in the bathtub crying, but it seemed like he was finally making things work in terms of his relationship. He had a lot of anxiety, but maybe that was normal and he just wasn’t good at handling it. He just had to think of a way to make the rest of his life fit around it. Practice. He needed to practice having a relationship.

 

They were supposed to spend three days together, and the first day went really well. Kenma managed to eat more in a day than he did in three days at Takeo’s, and he found himself relaxing. They spent the day talking about nothing, watching television, and doing their own separate things between naps.

 

The second day was the best day he had had in awhile. He had bought Kuroo his favorite meal and brought it home to him. Kuroo’s smile had beamed at the gesture. They heckled a very reactive Oikawa via text. Unsurprisingly, Oikawa had been able to tell who said what. At one point, he had been showing Kuroo the most recent level on the game he was helping develop and had to stop when he noticed that the other man was staring at him.

 

“What’s the look for?” He had paused the game and looked at Kuroo.

 

His friend’s face had been overtaken by a crooked smirk. “I missed you. Sorry. You were doing that nose scrunchy thing, and I was thinking about whether or not I should make fun of you for it.”

 

“Was not,” Kenma shot back out of reflex. He wanted to tell Kuroo that he had missed him so much it hurt, that he always missed him.

 

“Was too,” Kuroo bickered back, smiling.

 

“Ugh, was not. I don’t scrunch my nose.”

 

“You wanna bet on it.”

 

They had bickered for about fifteen minutes. Kuroo had been smiling the whole time.

 

It was on the third day that they had the biggest fight of their friendship.

 

It was a mere hour before Kuroo had to go to meet Arata at the train station and Kenma was sitting on Kuroo’s bed, tapping happily away at his game while Kuroo packed. They had been silent for quite some time, which wasn’t abnormal for them.

 

“Kitten, before I go, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Kuroo sounded nervous, which in turn, made Kenma nervous.

 

“What?” He responded, never looking away from his game. He wondered if it was going to be Kuroo asking him to move out so Arata could move in. Or was Kuroo going to move out? He prayed that that wasn’t it.

 

“It’s about Takeo,” Kuroo sat down on the bed.

 

Kenma could feel Kuroo’s eyes studying him.

 

“What about him?” Kenma was almost tempted to stop playing, but the game gave him a way to keep his nerves at bay. The whole situation was frightening. What was Kuroo thinking? Kenma, who could usually figure things like this out quickly, was floundering.

 

“I…I think that you should break up with him. He doesn’t seem like he’s good for you.,” Kuroo said in a rush.

 

Kenma put down his game and looked at Kuroo. “Kuro…”

 

“Listen, I’m only saying this because I care. I really have noticed that you aren’t happy, and I don’t know what the hell is keeping you tied to him but it….”

 

“I understand that you care, but I don’t think you understand where I am coming from,” Kenma responded as calmly as possible, despite the rage he was feeling. Kuroo, of course, didn’t get it. Kenma was defective and this was the best it would be, and it was the only way to move on from Kuroo. It wasn’t Takeo’s fault. It was Kenma’s.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean Kenma? I see that you are changing and that your anxiety is worse and that you are exhausted. I see that you don’t talk to any of your friends anymore. I just think that he isn’t good for you. You could do better. You could….”

 

“No Kuroo. I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t get how hard it is to be my boyfriend. I can’t do _better_ because I’m not better. I can make things work with Takeo because he’s patient, but anyone else would have kicked me to the curb by now.” Kenma felt his breath come in a huge gasp. He was mortified to feel his eyes misting. “I have to make it work.” The last line came out in a panic.

 

“That’s not true Kenma!” Kuroo yelled.

 

“But it is Kuroo,” Kenma refused to look Kuroo in the eye and tried to keep his voice apathetic. Otherwise, he would cry. _You didn’t want me_ _in that way_ _,_ he thought to himself. _Why would you think someone else would?_

 

“It isn’t. I’m not the only one who thinks he is bad for you, and I think that you don’t realize just how much of your life he’s….”

 

“Shut up Kuroo.” Kenma hated this. He hated that he had to explain his own inadequacies to his best friend. “I’m not like you.”

 

“I won’t shut up Kenma, because he isn’t a good person. Suga told me that….”

 

“I don’t care what they said. I am not like you or Suga or Daichi or Hinata or Bokuto. I am not easy to deal with. I am not a natural at being in a relationship. You can flit from person to person easily, but finding anyone to accept me is difficult Kuroo.”

 

“What do you mean ‘flit from person to person’? Just because I have had a few more boyfriends doesn’t mean you get to ignore my advice concerning Takeo.” Kuroo was angry and sad and everything Kenma never wanted him to be.

 

He abhorred that he was the reason for any of those emotions. It made him angry that Kuroo wasn’t listening to what he was saying like he normally did.

 

“I’m not like you! I can’t just _find_ another boyfriend. I’m not attractive, and I’m not easy to get along with. I’m a horrible boyfriend. I have to work at the things that come naturally to you, and Takeo...”

 

“No. You are none of those things, and Takeo isn’t a good person. I don’t get why you don’t believe that you are...”

 

“Believe what Kuroo? That I am someone normal or good looking or even remotely stable, because I am none of those things. That’s what you are.” Kenma was close to yelling.

 

“Dont’ say that. Don’t...”

 

“Don’t what? Admit what I am? Admit that I...your pet project isn’t as good as you. I will never be able to attract people the way that you do Kuroo, and how dare you impose that same standard on me.” Kenma felt the bite in his own words but was unable to stop himself. He had never forgiven Kuroo for being able to move on better than he had after the incident. He also could hear the echo of Takeo calling him Kuroo’s pet, something he had denied, but the words still stuck in his head.

 

“What standard? Pet project? Where did that even come from?! Damnit Kenma, you are better than Takeo. You should break up with him. He has a bad past.” Kuroo was pleading, but Kenma could barely hear the words coming out of his mouth.

 

It was as though a static had replaced any normal background noise. All he could think about was how much he wanted Kuroo and how much Kuroo didn’t want him. “He wants me Kuroo, and that’s more than I can say about any other person I know. I can’t pick and chose like you can, because I will never be attractive as you. I am so damaged, and you are a dick for trying to stop me from having a normal relationship just like the rest of you.” With that Kenma walked out of the room, very aware of Kuroo’s footsteps following behind him.

 

“You don’t understand Kenma…!” Kuroo was yelling and on the verge of tears from the sound of it.

 

“No you don’t understand. You are asking me to break it off with my only chance.”

 

“But he’s not!”

 

“But he is! I will never be able to have what you and Arata have. Go and enjoy your vacation Kuroo,” Kenma said with tears flowing down his cheeks. He slipped on his shoes, ran out of the apartment, and waited until he knew Kuroo was gone to return. He never answered any of the calls or texts Kuroo sent. He deleted them before even looking at them, sure that it would hurt too much.


	5. Hinata's Apartment part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning! There is non-consensual sex in this chapter.   
> It took a long time to write this, because of work, being sick, and having writer's block.   
> As usual, no real proof-reading has happened, so, please excuse the mistakes.

“Stop. Get off of me!” The words came out loud and clear, but Takeo continued as though he had not heard. His anxiety was flaring. Panic locked up Kenma’s muscles as he squirmed to get out from underneath the other man’s body. Just a few seconds ago, he had been okay. He had thought he was ready for this, but the feelings of alarm and dread were making it very clear that he wasn’t ready, and may never be ready for this kind of intimacy with Takeo.

 

“Just calm down! That’s why its hurting,” Takeo grunted out.

 

Kenma felt the panic fade and explode into a flare of rage. No one was allowed to touch him if he didn’t want them to. “I said get the fuck off,” he growled. Takeo was thrusting again, harder than before, and it didn’t just sting, it hurt worse than it initially had.

 

Kenma’s panic and adrenalin must have taken Takeo by surprise, because the ensuing struggle left Kenma alone on the bed and the other man on the floor beside pieces of the now broken lamp that had previously rested on his bedside table. Given any other situation, Takeo would have overpowered him easily.

 

Kenma tried to get his breathing under control as he watched Takeo look at his own hand, or more specifically the blood on it, with disbelief. The other man had landed nude, on his butt,with his feet tangled in Kenma’s sheets, but was making no move to cover himself.

 

“You fucking asshole,” Takeo hissed as he finally looked back up at Kenma who was still perched on the bed. When he opened his mouth to speak again, Kenma noted, with satisfaction that Takeo’s teeth were red with blood. “How fucking damaged are you?” He held out his red splattered fingers and palm, for emphasis. One of his perfectly chiseled cheekbones was already swelling and forming a large purpling bruise. 

 

Kenma moved to cover his lower half with his comforter before commanding, “I want you to leave.” After a few seconds passed, Takeo had not moved, so he added, “you aren’t welcome here anymore.”

 

“How dare you? You little shit. You freak out on me, go crazy, assault me, and then kick me out? You are so fucked up Kenma.”

 

Kenma frowned, annoyed by the twinge of pain he felt when he adjusted in the bed. “I don’t want to see you again. Leave.”

 

“What the fuck?” Takeo took a hard look at Kenma and changed his tone. “Listen, I’m sorry. It just hurts my feelings. I just really want to be close to you and...and, if you cared about me you would...”

 

Aching more than before, Kenma averted his eyes to the side and cut him off. “Would you like to have a conversation about assault? Because I am pretty sure I could have you arrested for what you just did to me.” Kenma wasn’t going to do that, because there was no way he was going to go through the mortification of dealing with telling strangers about what had happened, but Takeo didn’t know that.

 

“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything wrong. You said you wanted to do it!” Takeo rebuffed.

 

Kenma made eye contact, conveying his disbelief. Takeo was an idiot if he thought that Kenma was going to say anything was his own fault concerning what had just happened.

 

“Fine, you arrogant brat.” Takeo spat as he started to angrily pull on his clothes. “You are so emotionally incompetent Kenma. What just happened right here is the reason why you won’t be able to have a relationship. I tried so hard with you.”

 

It was strange. An hour ago those words would have had the desired effect. Instead, Kenma saw them for what they were, a manipulative gesture meant to cause guilt. Takeo had controlled too much of Kenma’s life through guilt already. Now that Kenma allowing himself to see clearly, Takeo was obvious and transparent.

 

“I told you to leave.” He replied in monotone.

 

When Takeo was fully clothed he stood to his full height and wiped at his still bleeding mouth. He stared at Kenma for a few seconds, and Kenma stared right back. “You do realize that this is the reason why you never made it with Kuroo, right?”

 

Kenma could stop the look of shock that crossed his face. “Excuse me.”

 

Takeo sneered.  “You heard me. I know you have a thing for him, and I know he’ d reject you, and it’s obvious why. You are a weird freak Kenma. If you think you are holding out for him, then you are climbing up the wrong tree. A guy like that doesn’t want someone like you let alone love you.  _ I  _ love you, and you screwed that up big time.”  He stared at Kenma, searching his face for something. 

 

It occurred to Kenma that Takeo was waiting on him to cry. Kenma had not given him exactly what he wanted, his tricks didn’t work anymore, and he was trying to cause as much damage as possible. It was a final act of control.

 

“Stay out of my business and get out of my home. You don’t know anything about my relationship with Kuroo,” Kenma spat. The comment _had_ hit way too close to hom e, but he wasn’t going to cry. Takeo did not deserve his tears.

 

Takeo stopped at the door and turned around. “You are going to regret this Kenma. You will realize what you’ve lost when Kuroo doesn’t want anything to do with you. You are like his pet. You’re a burden to him  and all you do is take, and eventually you are gonna  take until he can’t handle it anymore, and he will run away from you. You are a freak who can’t even take care of himself...you can’t even be intimate with your boyfriend. You’ll see.”  Rage seeped through every word, and his face was turning red.

 

“Leave before I call the cops,” Kenma said.

 

Kenma didn’t move until he heard the front door slam. He winced as he made his way to the bathroom, unsurprised to find that there was blood. There were only a few bruises and only one would be visible with clothes on, and he was thankful. Gingerly, he put on a loose pair of sweat pants. While he was in his room, he ignored the mess and simply grabbed his electronics. Teeth gnashed together with anxiety, he went over the texts he and Kuroo had sent each other hours before, making up but standing their ground on their argument. He had completely patched up things with Kuroo, and his first impulse was to text Kuroo about what had happened.

 

Memories of his argument with his best friend and the things that Takeo had said concerning his relationship with Kuroo stopped him from reaching out.

 

He turned off his phone. The way he was feeling was too complicated. He felt overstimulated, which in turn, made him want to shut down.

 

Without thinking about it, he made his way to Kuroo’s room, put on one of his best friend’s hoodies, and fell asleep.

**

Kenma didn’t do much in the days after Takeo left. He didn’t cry. He didn’t get angry, and although he had read somewhere that it was normal for victims to sometimes blame themselves, he sure as hell didn’t. All of the blame was with Takeo. Kenma knew that. He was more worried about having to talk to Kuroo.

 

He did spend a lot of time staring at his video games, wondering why he didn’t want to play them. He called work and took a few of the many vacation days he had accrued and slept eighteen hours a day, and didn’t do much else.

 

He slept in Kuroo’s bedroom. His own bedroom was exactly as it had been the day Takeo stormed out.

 

He avoided his own room. He didn’t want to have to look at the obvious signs of malcontent; the broken lamp on the floor, the indent in the wall where Takeo fell, the small amount of blood on the sheets, or even the fact that all the covers were on the floor.

 

He ignored all texts from Takeo. Kenma knew that he had ignored the signs of an abusive relationship from the start and was ashamed. This wasn’t who he was. He felt more defective than he had before.

 

He ignored everything, until Kuroo sent a text informing Kenma that he and Arata had broken up and that would be home early. It was then that Kenma panicked. Kuroo was going to be home in less than three hours.   


He looked around the apartment and realized he needed to clean up the mess from their fight. He imagined facing Kuroo, having to admit that Takeo was just as horrible as expected...having to admit that he was now all the more damaged… that he had been desperate, no, pathetic enough to continue an obviously bad relationship for fear of loneliness.

 

All he could concentrate on was what Kuroo was going to think.

 

Kenma had kept up a farce all in the name of trying to get over his romantic love for Kuroo, and that was just so insufferably weak.

 

Kenma’s nerves got the better of him, and he soon found himself vomiting what little he had eaten.

 

It was as though the idea of admitting what had happened made his deficiencies more real, more defining.

 

In a frantic rush he pushed the broken lamp pieces underneath his bed, quickly placed a comforter over the sheets, packed a bag, and called Shoyou, asking if he could stay over.

 

The answer was yes, and before Kenma could elaborate, he was out the door. He couldn’t see Kuroo right now, because he would fall apart.

 

 

 

 

 

**

Hinata didn’t even blanch when Bokuto flew through the open door yelling, “are you ready for the game of the century!”

 

It was their tradition to record and watch volleyball matches together. Sometimes others joined them, but Bokuto and Hinata were always there.

 

He had just transferred the popcorn from bag to bowl when his phone rang.

 

Hinata took the call from Kenma amidst the noise of the television pre-game talk and Bokuto’s loud projections on what would happen in the match. All he caught was that Kenma wanted to stay over for awhile, and he quickly said yes. Kenma sometimes stayed over, especially if Kuroo was out of town for a long time. Hinata had never been good with nuance, and because of this, he missed the tone of Kenma’s voice.

 

So when he opened the door to Kenma looking like he was about to jitter himself out of his skin, he was kind of blind sided, but once the shock wore off, he ushered his friend in and warned him that Bokuto was there. Kenma just nodded and walked inside. It took Hinata prodding him, for Kenma to remove his shoes and move to the couch. When Kenma clutched at his shoulder for balance, the grip was tight.

 

“Bokuto, turn off the TV,” he said.

 

To Bokuto’s credit, he took one look at Kenma and turned off the television.

 

Hinata made Kenma sit on the couch, and made him let go of the bag he had such a tight grip on his knuckles were turning white. Bokuto very gently replaced the bag with one of the couch pillows.

 

“What happened Kenma?” Bokuto said, changing gears quicker than Hinata could. Hinata couldn’t get over how much emotion was pouring off of his friend.

 

Kenma stared at his lap and shook his head.

 

Hinata had never seen Kenma like this and to be honest, he was afraid. No one said anything, sensing that they needed to wait for Kenma to speak up. When the first sob erupted loudly from his friend’s mouth, Hinata actually jumped a little. Kenma’s shoulders shook as tears streamed down his cheeks.

 

“Kenma what’s wrong? What happened?” Hinata said panicked. He realized he was moving his hands in nonsensical patterns, but he didn’t know what to do.

 

“I..I..I’m s..s..sorry,” Kenma managed between sniffles and sobs.

 

“Don’t be sorry. You don’t have a reason to be sorry,” Hinata said frantically, still trying to gain footing. He lifted his hand as though to comfort Kenma, but stopped himself, unsure if the touch would be accepted. He would have to assess the situation a little bit more before deciding if it was okay.

 

“I...u..usually...with K..Kuroo.” As Kenma said his roommate’s name he cried harder.

 

“Hey... where's Kuroo? I thought he was at that spa retreat. Did he upset...” Bokuto asked, obviously just as confused as Hinata.

 

Hinata shared a look with Bokuto, and figured that the other man was thinking the same thing that he was. Takeo.

 

“No. No...” Kenma wailed sniffing hard to keep snot from running down his lip. He took the wad of tissues offered by Bokuto.

 

“Should I call Kuroo?” Hinata figured that Kuroo would at the very least know what to do. Despite having had a close sexual relationship and friendship with Kenma, Hinata was still not the best at reading Kenma. He reached for his phone.

 

“No!” Kenma gulped in air like he was about to have a panic attack, and words came out of his mouth disjointed. “If he knows that I'm like this, a freak, he'll never... He’ll leave....” Kenma’s sobs became more violent.

 

“Shh. Shh.. slow down. Who called you a freak? What do you mean freak? He'll never what?” Bokuto asked and moved to hug Kenma but stopped himself.

 

“Couldn’t have sex...too dependent and weird and …. could never give him... not normal.” Kenma was beginning to hyperventilate. “He can't love me. He'll never love me. Takeo...said.... was right. I'm a freak... but it hurt!” Kenma cried.

 

Beside him, Bokuto was frantically tapping his own left cheek with two fingers making a small distressed sound. When Kenma finally looked his way, he gave Bokuto a nod. Bokuto pulled Kenma into hug and rubbed his back. Kenma’s bawling was now muffled by Bokuto’s shoulder. “Just breath Kenma. You gotta breath. Do it with me,” Bokuto said softly.

 

Hinata reflected that a few years ago, his friend would not have accepted that kind of physical comfort. It spoke volumes to how much Kenma had opened up. Without hesitation, he placed his had on Kenma’s back and rubbed small circles.

 

It took awhile, but finally, Kenma’s chest rose and fell at a less rapid pace, and his crying was no louder than his soft sniffles.

 

“Go get some water Hinata,” Bokuto ordered.

 

It felt good to get up and do something that felt useful. He hated how he had just froze when faced with so much emotion from Kenma, but what made him that way? He procured the water and also grabbed a washcloth and wet it with cool water so that Kenma would be able to wipe his face. It was something that Hinata’s mom had done for him many times, and Hinata knew it would make his friend feel at least a little better.

 

When Kenma finally calmed, sitting between Hinata and Bokuto as close to them as possible, that he told them what had happened.

 

By the end, Bokuto was strangely quiet and hard to read. He might have been sad, or he might have been angry.

 

Hinata was pissed.

 

“You do know that what he did wasn’t your fault, right?”

 

Kenma gave him what Tanaka used to call a “duh” look. “I know that. I am not okay with what Takeo did, but I am more worried about what I am going to do about Kuroo.”

 

“Yeah, he’s gonna be really pissed when he finds out. He’ll probably...” Hinata imagined that the next time he or Kuroo saw Takeo, it wasn’t going to end well.

 

“I don’t want him to know anything about it. You guys gotta promise not to tell him anything.” Kenma looked at Bokuto and then at Hinata.

 

Hinata promised, but noticed that Bokuto just shrugged his shoulders.

 

“But I don’t understand why. I mean, he’s your best friend.” Bokuto offered squeezing Kenma a little bit.

 

“Yeah, and I really don’t want him to know. It will make me seem more pathetic, and I have to stay strong to be able to...”

 

“Nothing about you is pathetic,” Bokuto snapped.

 

“What I mean is that I need to put distance between us and, I don’t want anything to make me fall into the same old trap of leaning on him and this will. I mean that...I’ve been in love with Kuroo for so long, and I know it’s unrequited. I can’t let him keep doing all this stuff for me, because Takeo was right about that and it was the cause of all this mess. I let it lead me on and, and… I am more of a burden than anything else. I want to stay friends, but I won’t let myself be so dependent on him. I won’t let my feelings ruin our friendship. I have to get over him, and the only way I can think to do that is to put some distance between us.” Kenma seemed sad just talking about it. “It was stupid to think I could just _replace_ him. I’ve learned my lesson.” 

 

“How are you so sure he doesn’t feel the same?” Hinata quipped.

 

“I know, okay.”

 

“But how. For all you know...”

 

Kenma grabbed Hinata’s hand but didn’t make eye contact. “I’m not going to tell you the whole story, but Kuroo kissed me once. He was drunk, and I wasn’t. He didn’t realize what he was doing, and the moment he did, he ran away and didn’t talk to me for a week.” Kenma took a deep breath, and a single blink cleared the wetness that had formed in the corners of his eyes. “ So, I know, okay. He was mortified. The look on his face before he ran out the door told me all I needed to know.” Hinata hated how his friend’s voice cracked.

 

“Maybe his feelings changed, have you ever considered that?” Bokuto said quietly. He still had his arms around Kenma’s shoulders. Kenma looked so small compared to Bokuto. Hinata wondered if the effect was exacerbated by how vulnerable his friend was right now.

 

“I don’t think so.” Kenma fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. “I’m not even his type. Just drop this, okay.” Kenma said, looking directly at Hinata.

 

Hinata hated how pitiful his friend looked. “Okay.”

 

“I would like to stay here for a few days, if you don’t mind.”

 

Hinata told him that he could stay, as long as he needed. That night, after Bokuto had went back to his own apartment looking haunted and Kenma was sleeping fitfully on his couch, Hinata thought about the what may have beens in his own life and all of the regret concerning one person in particular. He sincerely hoped that Kenma wasn’t in the same boat.

 

He only let his finger linger on Kageyama’s contact information for a few seconds before throwing the phone on his bedside table.

 

 

**

When Kuroo stepped off of the train and received the text from Kenma letting him know that he was staying a few days with The Shrimp, he didn’t think anything of it. If Kenma had been lonely while Kuroo was gone, Hinata’s apartment was a good place to find companionship. All that accompanied the text was the wave of longing that he always felt when he wanted his best friend to be there to comfort him.

 

Kuroo briefly considered going over to Hinata’s, but decided against it. If Kenma wanted to see him he would take action to do so. With that thought, realization dawned on Kuroo that he was digging himself further into the funk that had started when he was fighting with Arata.

 

All the way back to the apartment, he let the argument with Arata play through his mind. The truth was that the break up had been inevitable, and as usual, it was Kuroo’s fault. All of the people he dated always came to the same correct conclusion. No matter how hard Kuroo tried to hide it, they always figured out that he was in love with Kenma. Sometimes, the person he was dating would come right out and say it and break up with him right then and there. Other times, Kuroo would do something stupid to call attention to his romantic interest in his best friend, something that the other person could not possibly ignore. It always ended the same way, and Kuroo always felt guilty. This time was no different.

 

He moped around for the first few hours he was back at the apartment before he started noticing little things that seemed off.

 

There was still a lot of food in the fridge. It looked like next to nothing had been touched, and there was no sign of any takeout having been brought home. So, his friend had either been eating out a lot more than normal, or he wasn’t eating. Kenma had been sleeping in his bed. A few of his long blond hairs were on the dark blue of Kuroo’s bedding. There was what looked like a few splatters of vomit on the toilet seat and the bathroom floor. It wasn’t that Kenma never got sick, but it was unlike him to leave the house without cleaning it up first.  When he had first arrived back in the apartment, out of habit, he had done a quick walk through, including Kenma’s room. Nothing had seemed amiss then,  but a  another, longer look drew his attention to what looked like piece s  of pottery right beside the bed.

Crouching down, he noted that it was pieces of Kenma’s bedside lamp, and it looked like they had been shoved under the bed. Kenma must have really not been feeling well to just leave that there. Without pause he swept  the mess up, but resisted the urge to do a more thorough look search of his best friend’s room. That seemed a bit invasive. 

 

What he did wind up doing was texting Kenma, asking him if he was okay, pointing out the vomit and the broken lamp. The message Kenma sent made his day much brighter. Yes, he had puked a few times, and yes, the lamp had fallen off of the dresser, and Takeo was no longer Kenma’s boyfriend. 

He barely noticed Kenma’s apology for leaving the messes behind in his happiness at finding out that Takeo was no longer in the picture.

 

After sending a congratulation text, he sat back and let the good news sink in. He wondered if the lamp and his friend getting sick had anything to do with the break up, and the thought made his stomach clench. The logical part of his brain supplied that if anything really bad had happened, Kenma would have contacted him, probably immediately.

 

T he little happy high from the good news gave him the push he needed to finish unpacking, but by the time he was done, he was remembering what had happened at the spa, and feeling sorry for himself all over again. He couldn’t help but think that if Kenma had been there, he wouldn’t be feeling so bad. 

 

He drank a beer and then another, and decided that drinking alone wasn’t really a good idea.

 

–

Bokuto could see that Kuroo was on his way to being drunk the moment he looked at him. His friend’s hair was sticking up at all angles worse than normal, and the way he was slouching over his kitchen table looked defeated and sad.

 

Bokuto had been at home when he received the text from Kuroo, trying to talk himself out of a slump after hearing what happened to Kenma. He knew that making himself feel guilty for not doing more wasn’t productive or rational, but the situation had brought up enough of his own baggage to have him fighting a depression.

 

“Hey Bo,” Kuroo mouthed into his half empty beer.

 

“You my friend look like you have had a terrible day. What happened...shouldn’t you be lounging in spa like environment with Arata?” Bokuto asked, but he could already deduce what had happened.

Before Kuroo could answer though, the front door opened and Iwaizumi was shouting a greeting at them. He also made it clear that Kuroo needed to start locking his door and made a point of locking it loudly. This happened every single time Iwaizumi came over, and Kuroo never changed his habits.

 

“Grab me a beer while you’re up!” Kuroo yelled.

 

“Me too!” Bokuto added. They might as well join him in his drinks.

 

“I’m not your damned maid.” Despite Iwaizumi’s words, Bokuto could here the grumbling man rummaging around in the fridge. Seconds later, all three of them had a full bottle of beer in front of them.

 

Iwaizumi looked disheveled. His button up was untucked, the sleeves were rolled up, and there were sweat stains under his arms. He looked tired.

 

They all took a healthy swig of their beverages before Kuroo spoke up.

 

“Arata and I broke up.” Kuroo mumbled as he peeled at the soggy wrapper on his bottle.

 

“No shit,” Iwaizumi said, taking another long drink.

 

Kuroo threw him a harassed look, and threw a coaster at the other man’s head. Iwaizumi caught it mid gulp.

 

“What happened?” Bokuto asked, knowing that Kuroo would evade the question. He always did.

 

“Same damned thing that always happens.” Kuroo had his forehead against the table. He looked pitiful.

 

“You say that every damned time, but never tell us what it is.” Iwaizumi hit the nail on the head, and Bokuto found himself nodding. “You got a third nipple or somethin’?” Iwaizumi added.

 

Bokuto snorted.

 

“I don’t have a third nipple, and I don’t want to rehash it, because it’s not something that I can change, so it’s not worth talking about.” came Kuroo’s petulant reply. “Why are _you_ so grumpy?” 

 

B okuto reached over to rub Kuroo’s back. He hated when Kuroo got like this.  He also hated all the secrets hanging in the air. 

 

“Oikawa’s boss has him doing a huge project that can’t possibly be done in time,” Iwaizumi explained, frowning harder. Bokuto had thought it wasn’t possible, because Iwaizumi frowned pretty hardcore. 

 

“Why doesn’t he just tell his boss he can’t...” Bokuto started to ask.

 

“Because ‘can’t’ isn’t in the idiot’s vocabulary. He thinks that he can do it as long as he works hard enough. I fucking hate his boss.” He pouted and continued. “Oikawa usually takes up for himself pretty well, but with this guy… I think Oikawa’s legitimately worried about his job.”

 

“Sounds like a huge douche,” Kuroo agreed.

 

“If he makes Tooru cry again I am going to have to have a talk with the asshole. I know Oikawa says he can take care of himself, but this fucker just _keeps_ on taking advantage of him.” 

 

“So you’re mad that Tooru is being taken advantage of… how noble of you Iwaizumi,” Kuroo jabbed.

 

“You’d be pissed too if you had zero time with your significant other because of an asshat that doesn’t know how to do his own work,” Iwaizumi said. “Plus, when Oikawa is overworking himself he forgets about everything else around him. It gets destructive.”

 

“Yeah. I get depressed and snippy when I don’t get to see Akaashi, and Akaashi stress bakes when I’m away. I always come home to cakes and muffins and pie.” Akaashi’s pie was horrible, but he kept that to himself. “Kuroo you get destructive when you don’t see Kenma for too long. Remember the blender?” Bokuto watched as Iwaizumi and Kuroo groaned and nodded. Bokuto thought of Kenma’s face, tear streaked and devastated. He wanted to just lay everything he knew on the table, but he was sure Kenma wouldn’t appreciate that. He remembered when he himself had been grateful for others’ discretion. Specifically, Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s.

 

He caught himself running his fingers along the thick scar on his neck and stopped immediately.

 

“Oikawa bought you guys that blender. It was a good blender,” Iwaizumi added, shaking his head.

 

“Rest in peace, the best margarita maker ever,” Bokuto added.

 

“Don’t remind me about the blender.” Kuroo let his head thunk against the table again. He mumbled something that sounded like “DNA” and “in the name of science” but Bokuto couldn’t be sure.

 

Bokuto probably would never quite understand how Kuroo and Kenma’s blender wound up smoking and on fire, but he knew it was certainly a byproduct of Kenma’s absence.

 

“Yeah...where is Kenma?” Iwaizumi looked around as though he might have somehow missed the little blond’s presence.

 

“He’s spending the week with the shrimp.” There was no mistaking the aggravation in Kuroo’s voice.

 

Bokuto was pretty sure that Kenma had told Kuroo absolutely nothing about what happened while he was gone. He was also sure that Kenma wasn’t _going_ to tell him anything. This was frustrating.  He felt like he was about to bust with all that he knew. 

 

“He said he broke it off with Takeo,” Kuroo wasn’t hiding the fact that he found that to be good news. “I _really_ didn’t like that guy.” Kuroo finished his beer.

 

“Thank fucking God! That guy was within an inch of getting jumped by one of us,” Iwaizumi was apparently feeling very violent tonight. “I can tell Oikawa to stop sending Kenma pictures of kittens and worried face emojis.”

 

Bokuto was suddenly glad that the other two didn’t know what had happened between Kenma and Takeo, He was pretty sure both of his drinking partners would wind up in jail for assault. Takeo deserved it, but his friends didn’t deserve to be locked away.

 

For Kenma though it would be best to keep quiet. The last thing Kenma needed was drama and attention. Bokuto knew from first hand experience just how hard it was getting out of an abusive relationship. Luckily, Kenma had cut things off well before getting in too deep, and for that, Bokuto was grateful. In the end, Kenma had stayed true to himself and remembered his own worth. What had happened had been harmful enough. He was just glad that Kenma had cut ties with Takeo.

 

They all drank their beers quietly for a few moments.

 

“Arata said that I was never going to be able to keep a boyfriend,” Kuroo blurted out randomly. Clearly, the accusation had hit close to home.

 

“Don’t say that Kuroo.” Bokuto tried to sound as optimistic as possible. In his head he added the caveat that Kuroo would be just fine if he and Kenma would communicate with each other. Kuroo hadn’t professed love the way that Kenma had, but he didn’t have to. His actions spoke much louder than his words.

 

“But I think he’s right Bo.”

 

_Of course he’s right. You don’t keep boyfriend’s because you are in love with your roommate,_ Bokuto thought. This was so damned nerve wracking. 

 

“I’m bringing the whole case of beer to the table. This shit is depressing,” Iwaizumi said, throwing his chair back hard enough to almost knock it over.

 

“He really loves Oikawa a lot. Like… a whole lot,” Kuroo slurred.

 

Bokuto couldn’t not smile at that and was happy that Kuroo was focusing on something less depressing.. “Yeah, and Oikawa loves him too.”

 

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like without Akaashi?”

 

Never mind, Kuroo was really focused on staying down. Bokuto put his hand on the back of Kuroo’s neck and squeezed.

 

“I don’t have to. I know.” He thought of the time right ‘before Akaashi’ and wanted to erase it. That had been a very bad time.

 

Iwaizumi came back with beer and whiskey and promptly set up shots for them all. Bokuto was glad it was the weekend and that he lived in the same building. Teaching five year olds with a hangover was probably the worst idea ever.

 

“You are way too good at finding where we hide our liquor,” was the only thing Kuroo said.

 

They took their shots, and Bokuto wasn’t shocked that he was the only one who scrunched up his face in disgust. Kuroo didn’t because he was already drunk, but Iwaizumi didn’t because he was a badass, and no one could tell Bokuto differently.

 

“What is it like?” Kuroo was flinging balled up bits of beer wrapper at a vase.

 

“What is what like?” Bokuto prompted.

 

“Being in love,” Kuroo said, continuing to assault his vase.

 

“Do you think you were in love with Arata,” Iwaizumi said, and Bokuto noted a bit of sarcasm. Kuroo didn’t seem to catch it though.

 

Bokuto wanted to scream and gesticulate with abandon. _You know. You are my friend, but you are an IDIOT. You are in love!_

 

Instead, Iwaizumi replied. “You look at that person and even when you are so fucking mad at them and just annoyed as hell, you still feel that tug in your chest...of I guess...affection. You look at them and you want them to have the best.  You know their faults but still love them. You want them to have a job with a boss that isn’t a fucktard.”  He finished by knocking back his beer, chugging, and slamming the empty bottle on the table. 

 

_Colorful_ ,  Bokuto thought. 

 

“But how did you know you weren’t just friends are something…?” Kuroo leaned a little against Bokuto. The poor guy was freaking pitiful.

 

Iwaizumi was giving Kuroo a very hard look and Bokuto was sure that he was probably thinking similar things to what he was thinking. “You know because they are the only one that makes you feel like that.”  Iwaizumi’s tone said  _ you already know. _

 

“Bo?” Kuroo looked up from Bokuto’s shoulder.

 

“Everything Iwaizumi said…. And you always want to be with them. Like their physical beauty starts to blend with their inner beauty. You know, Akaashi is pretty, like really really pretty,  but he is just as pretty inside. And you trust them implicitly with your heart. You know they will never take advantage of you or hurt you.” He was probably getting a bit too animated, but hell, Kuroo wanted to know. “Like… you want to fall into the world with them! Or if you did fall into the world, it would be okay as long as it was with them. Maybe that doesn’t make sense, but it’s the best way to describe the feeling.” He was out of breath by the end, but he had been thinking of Akaashi’s face the whole time, and well, he loved Akaashi a lot. 

 

“You want to fall into the world with them.” Kuroo swallowed thickly. “Fall into the world.” 

 

“Yeah.” Bokuto said smartly.

 

“What he said,” Iwaizumi gave a nod Bokuto’s way.

 

For the next two hours they drank, and slowly but surely, both Kuroo and Iwaizumi’s mood shifted to something happier, if not drunker.

 

“No like… you have the best… the best sneer,” Kuroo was trying to tell Iwaizumi about his finer qualities.

 

“The wha?” Iwaizumi was clearly confused.

 

“The best sneer, dude. You sneer the best,” Kuroo expounded and then snorted out a laugh that was probably at himself. At least he wasn’t depressed anymore.

 

“You out sneer the sneeriest,” Bokuto added. “But you pout pretty hardcore too.” Bokuto tried to make it clear with his tone that it was meant as a major compliment. He was really drunk.

 

“Yeah. It’s the most dang’rous when you do both,” Kuroo said, as he placed a hand on the top of Iwaizumi’s head. Iwaizumi just let it sit there.

 

Bokuto wondered how it was that Kuroo had not passed out yet. He had drank a lot more than him and Iwaizumi, and they were both three sheets in the wind.

 

“I guess we all have a…supralatative. No wait. Thas not right. Gimme a minute.” A few seconds passed and Bokuto wondered if Kuroo had passed out. “Superlative. Nailed it!” Kuroo sounded very pleased with himself. “Bo you got the best hugs. Even Kenma says they’re the best, and you can’t argue with Kenma,” Kuroo stated an then hummed to himself as though agreeing with his own statement.

 

Bokuto actually felt himself blush.

 

“Yep. You...you’re...” Iwaizumi smacked a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder and swayed a little, but still didn’t manage to jostle Kuroo’s hand from his hair. “You are. The. huggiest,” he said seriously.

 

The room was silent for a heartbeat, and then they all burst into laughter. The best kind of laugh. The kind that came from deep in the chest. Bokuto loved hearing that kind of laughter.

 

When they subsided into giggles and then finally into just the occasional snort, Bokuto continued the previous conversation with, “Akaashi. I think Akaashi is the most protective. He’s...”

 

“No Kenma is,” Kuroo said as Iwaizumi said, ”Nope. That would be Oikawa.”

 

They were quiet again, but not for long, because just as Bokuto was about to make his argument Iwaizumi piped up.

 

“Oikawa he’s hard to know, ya know? Getting into that pretty little head and heart of his is so hard, but when you’re in you’re in, and you guys are in. You guys are like his herd, flock...or...”

 

“Dude, you ca’ call us his friends,” Kuroo stated.

 

“Yeah that but, it’s more for him. He’s such a shit but he loves you guys, even you Kuroo. All you two do half the time is throw shade at each other, but he would do anything to make sure you didn’t get hurt or something.” Iwaizumi provided.

 

“Yeah. He’s the throwiest. Ha. He throws the best shade,” Kuroo said nostalgically as though he had not ‘thrown shade’ at Oikawa just two days ago.

 

“It’s so hot when he does that with you,” Iwaizumi blurted out.

 

Kuroo immediately flopped onto his side so he could look at Iwaizumi with the least amount of movement, and Bokuto looked over beside him so fast he almost broke his own neck.

 

Iwaizumi definitely realized what he said, right after he said it, because his face was scarlet. “Forget what I just said,” he bit out, refusing to look their way.

 

“I can’t,” Bokuto said evenly.

 

Kuroo was giggling and then guffawing his ugly laugh. “I can’t… believe…” He had to stop to finish his laughter. He continued with a few more snorts. “Oh that is priceless. I really hope I ‘member this t’morrow, cause you are so screwed.”

 

“Shud up,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

 

Kuroo laughed like a damned hyena, but through his chuckles he spit out, “I love you guys. You guyzz are the bestes friends.”

 

Iwaizumi let out a “hmph”.

 

“We love you too Kuroo,” Bokuto added. _But Kenma loves you the most._


End file.
